


Whole Lotta Love

by TheWrongWriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Blowjobs, Boys Being Idiots, Cellist Castiel, Cellist Dean, Cellist Kevin, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gay Sex, Horn Player Gabriel, Inspired by Music, Lots of good music-click the links, M/M, Masturbation, Percussionist Charlie, Pianist Sam, Some homophobic language at the end, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 28,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27634181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWrongWriter/pseuds/TheWrongWriter
Summary: Dean Winchester was used to being the First Chair cellist with the Kansas City Orchestra, the golden boy taking after his late mother, First Chair cellist Mary Winchester. Until Castiel freakin' Novak showed up.Castiel Novak was used to being the top performer wherever he went. He had no choice; it was expected of him. Until he moved to Kansas to be closer to his family, and he had to deal with Dean Winchester.Can the two men learn to get along long enough to help pull off a charity concert? And will their incendiary rivalry spark flames of another sort?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I am SOOOOOO sorry for falling behind on my WIPs. I know y'all want updates, and I promise they're bouncing around my brain.
> 
> As an apology, I'm reposting something I wrote a long time ago & deleted, but recently found when cleaning up my Google Drive. I hope you enjoy my little take on 2CELLOS with Dean (picture Stjepan Hauser) and Cas (picture Luka Sulik). 
> 
> Also, 15x20 never happened.

_Castiel hated Dean Winchester._

Castiel Novak was currently-and just more than half the time-First Chair cello for the Kansas City Orchestra. The rest of the time First Chair was occupied by one Dean Winchester, who was once again challenging him for the seat. They have challenged each other probably every other month since Castiel came to the KCO two years ago. Dean was their golden boy, son of a former First Chair cellist, and despite his shoddy (according to Castiel) playing style, he had been First Chair since he joined the company. Castiel firmly believed he was the better cellist, but Dean believed otherwise.

Dean threw a stack of sheet music on Castiel’s chair with a smirk. “Think you can keep up, Cas?” he said, the nickname dripping with sarcasm as always.

Castiel picked up the challenge piece. The challenger chose the piece to sight read, and Dean always came up with pieces Castiel had rarely, if ever, heard of. Castiel strictly played classical music, but Dean’s choices always leaned towards movie soundtracks or offbeat pieces. The challenge piece Dean gave him today was called _Misrilou_. The subtitle below the piece said “Theme from Pulp Fiction”. Castiel sighed. _Another movie piece_. He scanned the notes on the page, sweating a little at the abhorrent number of sixteenth and thirty-second notes.

“Don’t look so scared,” Dean said with a wink, “I gave you the easy part.”

Castiel hated how Dean flirted with him. Dean flirted with everyone; it was like his default setting. What Castiel never understood though, was why flirt with him? His “people skills” were “rusty”, and he only had one friend, Third Chair cellist Kevin Tran. Castiel barely ever spoke with Dean or gave him any indication that he preferred the company of men, yet Dean thought it perfectly acceptable to throw a wink and a grin at him at inappropriate times. If it weren’t for the fluttering in his stomach every time he did that, Castiel might have said something to either the conductor or the co-conductor about Dean’s behavior.

Now, he just sighed and reviewed the music for the First Chair challenge, which would happen after practice. He knew their current season pieces inside and out, so it’s not like the challenge would distract him from his usual excellent performance. This composition of _Misrilou_ was written specifically for two cellos. If this is the easy part, what did Dean’s part look like? The short, staccato notes still made his stomach churn. Yes, he could play them, but his preference leaned towards more complex pieces, multiple notes played on long flowing sweeps of the bow. This piece would require shorter, faster bow strokes. Showy, but messy.

When the conductor arrived at the podium, Castiel set the challenge piece under his chair and prepared for rehearsal. He pulled his rosin block from his bag and prepped his bow. A sideways glance told him Dean was doing the same, however he was doing it in such a manner that he looked like he was stroking the bow erotically. Cas flushed slightly and went back to his own pre-practice routine. It was going to be a long day.

* * * * *

_Dean hated Castiel Novak_.

In Dean’s opinion, Cas was a stuck-up rich boy with entitlement issues. He didn’t usually talk to anyone but the conductors and Kevin, like he was too good for their Midwestern orchestra. If he was such hot shit, why didn’t he stay in Chicago where he’d come from?

He’d get his chair back today, though. He knew from watching the man for the past two years that Cas was uncomfortable with intricate bow work. Not only was _Misrilou_ from one of the best of Tarantino’s films, but it was lively and upbeat and a lot of fun to play. His mom was the best musician he’d ever heard (although that may be colored by the facts that he was four and she was his mom), and she made everything she played seem like the most fun thing she ever did. He wanted to keep that spirit in everything he played, for himself and for his mom.

Dean wished they could do the challenge before practice to pump him up. This season’s pieces were a collection of Beethoven pieces. With the composer being one of the more popular ones, the KCO board of directors decided to do a whole season based around his work to try to pull in more patrons and donors. Some of it was good, but overall it made Dean want to take a nap. A couple seasons ago he’d convinced the board to let them do a one-time show of them performing scores from popular movies and it was a hit, but there was no way they would green light an entire season around something like that.

He trudged through practice, playing well enough not to garner any attention from the conductor but not really putting his full attention into it. He was so amped up for the challenge he had to remind himself not to bounce his knees throughout the four pieces they worked on that day. When the conductor called it quits after almost three hours, Dean shot out of his chair and raised his bow, signaling for his attention. The conductor just sighed and waved a hand at Dean to go ahead.

“Challenging Castiel Novak for First Chair,” Dean said excitedly.

“Again,” Charlie Bradbury sighed from the percussion section, garnering groans and giggles from throughout the orchestra. Dean shot her a look and she blew him a kiss. He acted like he caught it and stuffed it in his pocket.

“Can we just get this over with?” Cas said irritably. The man pinned Dean down with those ocean-blue eyes that always stole his breath. A man that cold should have an icy glare, not one that makes his skin heat up. He shook it off and gave Cas a lecherous grin.

“Ready when you are, Cas,” he said, trying to rattle the man.

Both men applied more rosin to their bows and set up their sheet music. The conductor announced to the rest of the orchestra that the two would be playing [_Misrilou_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x7pbkf6-ScY), then counted them off. Cas had the first eight measures before Dean came in, and Dean watched as he expertly his the thirty-second notes right off the bat. He was a little impressed, but knew Cas would flag and probably lose tempo partway through. Dean joined in after the intro, effortlessly keeping up with both the conductor and Cas. Almost 2 minutes in, Cas stumbled. Dean knew he would and just smiled. He kept his eyes on the conductor to keep his tempo so that Cas’ mistake didn’t make him trip up, too. Cas got his footing back in time to end the song, but Dean knew he got his chair back.

“First Chair, Dean Winchester,” the conductor announced, and Dean gave a little fist pump. Cas rolled his eyes and started packing up his cello, everyone around them also packing up their instruments for the day.

“Maybe if you’d play something normal, we’d see how good you _really_ are,” Cas mumbled under his breath, but Dean heard it.

“Normal?” Dean laughed, Charlie joining him. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, pulled out a twenty dollar bill, and set it on Cas’ music stand. “Betcha twenty you couldn’t play anything from the last half a century.” He stood there smugly, arms crossed over his chest. He couldn’t wait to see this.

* * * * *

Castiel looked at Dean, then looked at the twenty on his music stand. Dean was right, he wasn’t fond of modern music. Most of it just sounded like noise to him. He did know one song, though, and he smiled at the memory.

When he was eight, he had his first and only nanny who was younger than fifty. In her late twenties, she was just as hard-working and firm with him as his other nannies had been, but she was softer somehow. She smiled much more than anyone he knew, and she always engaged him with questions. One afternoon after picking him up from cello practice, she handed him some sheet music. It wasn’t classical music, but she had told him it was one of her favorite songs and that it reminded her of her mother, and did he think he could learn it for her? Wanting to keep her smiling, he did learn it, and played it for her every chance he got. When his mother heard it, he had a new nanny the next day.

Castiel pulled his cello back out and, without even reapplying rosin to his bow, began to play.

* * * * *

Without a change in his expression, Cas began to play. At the first few notes, Dean recognized the song and was assailed by memories of his mom feeding baby Sammy while he laid his head in her lap. Sam was a colicky baby, and his mom swore that singing to him while he ate made him feel better. As Cas continued to play, Dean could hear his mom singing in his head.

_Hey Jude, don't make it bad  
Take a sad song and make it better  
Remember to let her into your heart  
Then you can start to make it better  
_

_Hey Jude, don't be afraid  
You were made to go out and get her  
The minute you let her under your skin  
Then you begin to make it better  
_

_And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain  
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders  
For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool  
By making his world a little colder  
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah  
_

_Hey Jude, don't let me down  
You have found her, now go and get her  
Remember to let her into your heart  
Then you can start to make it better  
_

_So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin  
You're waiting for someone to perform with  
And don't you know that it's just you, hey Jude, you'll do  
The movement you need is on your shoulder  
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah yeah  
_

_Hey Jude, don't make it bad  
Take a sad song and make it better  
Remember to let her under your skin  
Then you'll begin to make it  
Better better better better better better, oh_

Dean picked up his cello case and left without a word, leaving the twenty on Cas’ music stand.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean slammed the door of the house he shared with his brother, interrupting the piano lesson Sam was giving at the moment.

“Dean?” Sam asked with concern.

“Hey Sammy, hey Krissy,” Dean called out. “Ignore me, it’s been a day.”

“It’s always a day with you, old man,” Krissy called out playfully, trying to cheer him up.

“I’m not old,” Dean muttered, setting his mother’s cello in the music room next to his electric cello before heading out to the garage.

The music room was technically the living room. Dean and Sam had moved back in several years ago to take care of their dad when he had cancer, and after his death neither one of them wanted to move into the master bedroom. Instead, they turned it into their TV room and turned the living room into a space where Sam, who went to school for music education, could give private piano lessons and Dean could pick up some extra cash giving cello lessons. They even kept a drum kit in there, because Dean thought it would be badass to learn how to play it and it made visits from Charlie a helluva lot of fun.

Neither of them saw a point in getting their own place. The mortgage was paid off so there was no rent, and splitting the bills made saving money even easier. They figured if one or both of them decided to get serious with someone, one of them could move out. Probably Sam, since Dean was so attached to the place.

_And wasn’t that the kicker?_ Dean thought to himself as he cranked up the radio and pulled the tarp off the old ‘67 Impala. Iron Maiden’s _The Trooper_ came on, and Dean got lost in the music as he banged out the damage to the rear caused by a half-asleep trucker not hitting his brakes fast enough. Dean got attached to things pretty deeply-the house he grew up in, the car his dad gave him, his mom’s cello. On the other hand, he just couldn’t get attached to people. Sure, he had Sam, and Charlie became the little sister he never knew he wanted, and their Uncle Bobby, who’d cared for him and his brother when their dad went off the deep end after their mom died. Other than them, Dean couldn’t muster up the desire to hold on to anyone else.

Thinking of holding on to someone, a pair of icy blue eyes that heated him up from the inside flashed into his mind. He shook it off though, knowing Cas Novak was one person he had nothing in common with and had no desire to get to know better.

* * * * *

Castiel let himself into his loft apartment and locked the door behind him. The place was just as empty and sterile as his mother’s house, but he didn’t mind too much. He set his cello next to the front door, toed off his shoes, and headed to his sanctuary, his bedroom. This was the one room that made the loft feel like home to Castiel, with its framed prints of bees landing on various flowers, a bookshelf overflowing with classics, and his turntable and collection of records. He thoughtfully pulled one record from its sleeve and put it on the player, Gershwin’s _Rhapsody in Blue_ filling the small space.

Castiel laughed at himself. This was his version of ‘modern music’, and it differed drastically from Dean Winchester’s definition. Thanks to his cousin, he was learning to love jazz, big bands, and swing music. The last time Castiel turned on a radio, the sounds he heard didn’t resemble any sort of music he had grown up with or had come to enjoy, so he simply switched it off. He wondered what radio station Dean listened to.

Groaning, he rolled over and pulled his pillow over his head. Why was he even thinking about Winchester? The man simply infuriated him with his cockiness and brash demeanor. Yes, the man was a decent cellist, but that didn’t warrant the size of the man’s ego. Neither did his dazzling smile nor his sparkling eyes or…

He threw his pillow across the room, picked up his cell phone to call his cousin to see if he was playing that evening. Gabriel played trumpet for a jazz band at a local prohibition-era-themed club, The Speakeasy. Even if he wasn’t, Gabriel was one of those individuals who was always happy, smiling at everyone and enjoying life. His moods were always infectious and Castiel needed a little of that tonight. It would help him keep his mind off a certain cellist who drove him insane.

* * * * *

Dean had made a decent dent in un-denting his Baby’s back end a few hours later. There was a little left to do, then removing the old chipped paint, buffing it out, and re-painting it. He felt much better after working with his hands for a few hours, it always seemed to untangle the stress that bunched up in his shoulders and the music helped clear his mind. He turned off the radio before heading back inside.

He found Sam sitting at the piano still, despite his student leaving hours ago. He was furiously scribbling at staved sheets, putting notes to paper.

“Whatcha working on?” Dean asked, startling his brother from his work. Sam just shrugged, and Dean rolled his eyes. Deciding to be a little shit and tease his brother, he snatched a sheet from the bottom of the stack and eyeballed it. “A piano/cello duet? Awwww, Sammy, miss playing with your big brother?”

Sam stood up and snatched the paper back, giving Dean his best bitchface. “Actually,” he said, still looking pissed at Dean, “it’s for piano and two cellos.” He handed Dean the top sheet with the title on it. “I know how much you love your movie themes, so I thought you’d appreciate it. Also, it was supposed to be a surprise. So, surprise,” he said flatly.

Dean looked at the title, and felt like shit and excited all at once. _Live and Let Die_ was his favorite Roger Moore/James Bond movie. Of course Sean Connery was the best of the Bonds, but the others weren’t too bad. He handed the sheet back to Sam and asked, “can we try it out?”

Sam’s bad mood at his surprise being spoiled melted. Dean was practically bouncing now, like he always did with a new piece like this. It was getting harder and harder to find sheet music for the cello for the kind of music Dean enjoyed, so he’d taken to transposing it for him. It gave him something to do in his spare time other than spending too much time in his own mind, and he wasn’t about to talk with Dean about what’s been going on with him lately.

They each took a copy of their parts, Dean taking first cello. He pulled out his small amp and hooked up his electric cello for this. They played through the first couple pages several times, Dean switching from the first cello piece to the second, trying to hear how it would come together. He wanted to bitch that Sam should have just made it a duet, but he knew that they needed another string instrument to pull off the complex sounds he loved.

“Think Kevin could pull off the second cello part?” Sam asked as they finished up for the night.

“Probably, maybe,” Dean said non-committally. He only ever hung out with Kevin Tran when Charlie brought him around for their monthly game and movie night. The rest of the time, Kevin hung out with…

An idea crammed its way into Dean’s head, then immediately shook it loose. Nope, no way would he think of asking Cas to try this.

“Hey bitch, feel like grabbing a drink?”

Sam’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Only if I get to pick the place, jerk.”

* * * * *

Castiel nursed his Shirley Temple as Gabriel rambled on about his latest crush, a man who had become a regular over the past few months. Apparently, Gabriel would sit and talk with the man for hours after he’d finish his sets, discussing music, movies, books, local and world current events, even finding a common bond over bad pick-up lines.

“You wouldn’t believe this guy, Cassie,” Gabriel gushed. “I could climb him like a fucking tree. He’s absolutely gorgeous. And he’s all mine for a few hours every Monday night. Doesn’t even give the waitresses a second glance. I think I’m in love!” Gabriel threw an arm across his forehead, pretending to swoon.

“And does the love of your life have a name?” Castiel asked, knowing his cousin “fell in love” every other week. The fact that this man held Gabriel’s attention for more than a month surprised him.

Just then, Gabriel’s phone notified him of a text message. When he opened it, Gabriel grinned like a kid in a candy store. “His name’s Sam,” Gabriel told him, “and you might just get to meet him. Looks like he and his brother are coming out tonight.”


	3. Chapter 3

The Speakeasy wasn’t Dean’s regular kind of place, but Sam was talking a mile a minute about the great music and fun atmosphere and Dean couldn’t help smile. As they paid their cover and entered the large ballroom, they were overwhelmed by the sounds of the band on stage, the waitresses dressed in period dresses working the room with trays of drinks, and the two bartenders putting on a show flipping bottles behind the bar. A few couples were out on the floor dancing, flipping and throwing each other around before pulling each other back in and spinning in a tangle of legs that looked effortless. Yeah, Dean could get used to this.

Sam pulled his brother to a table over by the stage, never taking his eyes off the band. One of the horn players looked in their direction, smiling around his mouthpiece and making lewd faces at them. Dean rolled his eyes at the flirty trumpet player before taking in the club again. His eyes landed on a man facing the bar, probably waiting to get a drink. His mop of dark hair bobbed in time to the music, a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up showing off strong forearms, one of which was raised as he snapped his fingers in time to the music. Grey dress slacks covered a strong ass and thighs that almost had Dean drooling as his hips swayed. He hit the table to get Sam’s attention from the stage and said, “gonna grab some drinks, be right back.” Sam just nodded and turned back to the band.

Dean shook his head and laughed as he headed to the bar. If he didn’t know his brother was straight as an arrow, he’d think he was gonna make a play for that trumpet player. He wouldn’t give two shits if his brother swung that way, but it would be so much fun to torture him after the shit Sammy had given him the first time he caught Dean kissing a guy. Sam didn’t have a prejudiced bone in his body and was probably the most open-minded person Dean knew, but when the opportunity to rag on his older brother came up, he didn’t hesitate to jump on it.

As he approached the bar and Mister Sex-Hair, he gave the man’s backside another once-over. Dean wondered if there would be ice-blue eyes under that dark hair then shook the thought off. Maybe a hook up with this guy would help him get over whatever funky thoughts had been going through his head lately. Leaning against the bar with his best game face on, he licked his lips and said, “hey handsome.”

He was not expecting the man to face him with an icy blue gaze and to say, “hello Dean.”

* * * * *

Castiel was startled by the smooth voice pulling him from the music, but even more startled to find that it belonged to Dean Winchester. He quickly recovered though, not giving the man the satisfaction of knowing he caught him off guard. Dean must have thought he was someone else, because his face dropped minutely before recovering, playing it off as though he knew who he was all along.

“There’s gotta be a Bogart joke in here somewhere,” Dean said with a laugh. “Something about ‘out of all the gin joints in all the world’.”

Castiel knew who Humphrey Bogart was, but had never seen any of his movies, and couldn’t place the movie quote, tilting his head to one side as he thought about it but couldn’t figure it out. “I don’t understand that reference.”

Dean feigned shock, clutching his chest in mock scandal. “You mean you’ve never seen Casablanca? I don’t think we can be friends anymore, Cas.”

Castiel lifted one eyebrow in question. “I was not aware we were friends, Dean.”

“Not if you don’t know classic movies, we’re not,” Dean continued to joke.

“I don’t watch television or movies often,” Castiel replied with a shrug. “I don’t even own a television set.”

Dean’s jaw practically hit the floor. He looked at Castiel as though he were from another planet. He laid one warm hand on Castiel’s forearm and pleaded, “tell me you’ve at least seen Star Wars, right?”

Castiel almost missed the question when he felt the skin on skin contact from Dean. Realizing the man was waiting for an answer, he shook off Dean’s hand and shook his head. “I know _of_ it, but I have never seen it.”

Dean looked a little taken aback by Castiel shrugging him off, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, since you don’t consider us friends, I’ll have to sic Charlie on you. She’d love to get her hands on a Star Wars virgin.” Then with a wicked grin he added, “although I wouldn’t mind getting to pop your cherry.”

As the band had just ended their set, Castiel’s loud gulp at Dean’s statement was audible, and Dean smirked at him. The man oozed sex appeal, even when he wasn’t trying. The question was, was he trying now?

Gabriel made his way over to Castiel, dragging a very, very tall young man behind him. It didn’t escape him that Dean noticed them as well and looked like he was trying to hold in laughter. When his cousin stopped in front of him he wrapped an arm around the man’s waist and leaned into him.

“Hey Cassie,” Gabriel said breathlessly, “this is Sam, the guy I was telling you about.” He grinned up at the man, who seemed to be turning several shades of red, before adding, “who is now officially my boyfriend.”

* * * * *

Dean couldn’t hold it in any longer. He burst out laughing, earning a punch in the shoulder from his brother. “Welcome to the other side, Sammy,” he said breathlessly, trying to control his laughter.

“Don’t start with me, jerk,” Sam said, trying to control the furious blush still climbing his face.

“Do you two know each other?” Cas asked, his head swiveling between Dean and Sam.

Finally remembering that the trumpet player was the one who dragged Sam over to introduce to Cas, he replied, “yeah, he’s my kid brother. How do you know short stack here?” He heard the short blonde humph at the comment, but he just grinned widely.

“Gabriel is my cousin,” Cas replied flatly.

“A horn player named Gabriel!” Dean howled, laughter overtaking him again. “Please tell me you get _that_ reference, Cas!” Sam rolled his eyes at Dean, and Gabriel just shrugged with a good natured smile. The corner of Cas’ mouth twitched as he answered, “yes, Dean, I understand that reference.”

“Cas?” Sam asked. “As in Castiel Novak?”

Gabriel looked up at Sam. “Wait a second-Dean? Dean Winchester? Your brother is the pain in my little cousin’s ass at the KCO?” Gabriel started laughing now. “Oh, this is gonna be so much fun, Sammykins!” Gabriel turned on Dean and Cas with an evil grin. “Since we all know each other, I guess that means I can drag Cassie along to movie night over at your place this weekend.”

* * * * *

“No,” Castiel said firmly. “Absolutely not. Kevin and I have scheduled a practice for Saturday evening.” What he didn’t want to mention was that Kevin was helping him find a challenge piece to get First Chair back from Dean, since Kevin has played alongside the man for years and would help find a piece Dean couldn’t play as well as Castiel could. He also didn’t want to mention that he wanted to avoid the unsettling feeling in his chest when he spent too much time around Dean.

“That’s okay, Cas,” Dean said, throwing an arm over Castiel’s shoulder and setting the butterflies in his stomach into flight again. “We’re meeting at our place Friday night, so you can keep your practice schedule. You wouldn’t want to miss out on the fun, would you?” he asked with a wink.

“But Gabriel plays here on Friday night,” Castiel tried to argue, “he couldn’t possibly miss work for a ‘movie night’ with his ‘boyfriend’.” He cringed because he could hear the air quotes in his own voice.

“Not to worry cuz, the jazz band from the music program over at Kansas State is playing Friday and Saturday night this week. Part of their grades,” Gabriel informed him smugly.

Grasping at straws, he finally blurted out, “I have plans to have dinner with my mother Friday evening. So you see, I couldn’t possibly attend.” He made a mental note to call his mother tomorrow to see if she could schedule in dinner with him. It was a long shot, but maybe it would prevent his cousin from forcing him into an awkward situation.

Gabriel snorted. “Now you’re reaching, Cassie. You usually avoid that woman like the plague. You’re coming with me Friday night, whether you like it or not,” Gabriel grinned.

Castiel sighed in resignation. He had a feeling this would not go well.


	4. Chapter 4

The week went by too quickly for Castiel. The day after meeting at The Speakeasy, Dean had informed Charlie at rehearsal that Castiel had never seen Star Wars, prompting her to go into what Dean referred to as a “nerdgasm”. She spoke very rapidly about episodes and Wookies and Ewoks and when she mentioned someone named Han Solo both she and Dean let out a heaving sigh. He was confused, but Charlie insisted that he would come to understand and love everything Star Wars.

That prompted a discussion on the merits of Star Trek, and which series was better. Castiel tried his hardest to ignore them, but Charlie and Dean, and then Kevin, kept sucking him into conversations. Rehearsals proceeded to fly by with small conversations between songs and a growing list of movies Charlie and Dean deemed necessary for Castiel’s cinematic education.

In the evenings, he tried to slow himself down with his favorite Vonnegut book, _Kilgore Trout_. However, every time he would get settled in, he’d get yet another text from Gabriel. It was very middle school, with questions like “Did Dean say anything about Sam?” or “Has Sam talked about me to Dean?” He was very tempted to turn his phone off, but couldn’t find it in himself to not respond to his cousin, even if it was in the negative to his questions.

Before he knew it, it was Friday. Charlie had invited Kevin to join them for movie night at Dean and Sam’s place, and they were both very excited about watching Star Wars with someone who had never seen it. Castiel had the feeling he would be watched more than the movie would. Dean, on the other hand, was more subdued than he was the rest of the week. When movie night was mentioned, he would just smile and get back to reviewing the new piece they received the day before. Castiel was unsure if that meant he was less than enthusiastic about him joining them for their movie night, or if Dean took his position as First Chair cellist more seriously than he originally assumed. He was starting to wonder if he had misjudged Dean completely the past two years.

* * * * *

The week went by too slowly for Dean. Charlie’s enthusiasm for adding Cas to their small group of friends had been contagious at first, geeking out over getting to see his first impressions and reactions to some of the greatest movies ever. But Cas’ words kept nagging at him: “I was not aware we were friends, Dean.” He had nothing in common with the guy, and he constantly fought him for First Chair, not knowing that it was _his_ spot, because it was his mom’s spot. He had to be First Chair for her, so she’d be proud of him, wherever she was now. He’d like to believe in Heaven and that she was there, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around it. It just didn’t seem right to him.

Thoughts of his mom slowly pulled him down throughout the rest of the week. Would she be just as excited as he had been to introduce Cas (or anyone else) to something new and amazing? Was she as open with her fellow musicians to allow a rival to join their circle of friends? Then it devolved into what his mom would think of Cas, if she knew he found Cas attractive, and how she would feel if she knew Dean swung both ways. The final breaking point was receiving the music for _Dance of the Hours_ by Amilcare Ponchielle, which he already knew by heart because it was one of his mom’s favorite pieces. By the time Friday rolled around, he just couldn’t bring himself to be excited about movie night.

He got home after rehearsals Friday evening and, as always, set his mom’s cello next to his electric one. Sam wasn’t giving any lessons that afternoon, but he was scribbling away putting the finishing touches on his arrangement of _Live and Let Die_. He loved that his brother would do shit like that for him, make arrangements he could play on the cello. They rarely said “I love you” to each other, they weren’t wordy kinds of people, but they constantly did shit like that to say it without the words.

Sam looked up at Dean with a grin. “Hey man, think Kevin would want to give this a shot tonight?” he asked. “Figured we could try it before we start the movie, having two cellists here.”

“Three,” Dean corrected him, “but yeah, we can give it a shot. He’s played an electric cello before, so he can use the Yamaha. Unless you think he should bring his traditional?”

“Nah, it’s good. I was thinking it’d probably sound better on two electrics. A test run with one of each should give us a good idea on that.” Sam finished with a flourish before stacking the papers and tapping them on the piano to even them out. “There you go! Now, I’m going to shower and start with the snacks before Gabe gets here.”

Dean had to laugh at that. “Dude, I still can’t believe you’re dating a dude. Your whole ‘I know what I like’ has gone completely out the window.”

Sam shrugged. “I still know what I like. He’s short, he’s blonde, he’s cute, and he’s definitely perky. Stack that on top of his intelligence and humor, and who gives a rat’s ass if he’s a guy?”

Dean shoulder-bumped him before sitting on the piano bench to look over the sheet music. “Atta boy, Sammy,” he said with a grin. Sam just gave him a lopsided smile and ran up the stairs to clean up.

He lost track of time reading and re-reading Sam’s composition, loving the play of the cellos against each other yet still in harmony with the piano. He loved that it was a faster tempo than the original, yet stayed true to the spirit of the song. Most of all he loved the thought of playing it with his brother and Cas.

_Wait, what?_

He shook that thought out of his head. This wasn’t the kind of music Cas liked at all, so there was no way he’d consider playing it. Best to get that thought out of his head right now. Maybe he shook his head a little too hard, because he thought he heard it rattling.

He heard the sound again and chuckled at himself. Someone was knocking at the door. “I got it!” he yelled to his brother, who was puttering around the kitchen. He was not expecting to open the door and see Cas-prim, proper, stuck-up Cas-standing there in the softest looking faded blue jeans and a faded black tee with a picture of Einstein sticking his tongue out. His hair was stuck up in every direction like he had just rolled ~~around in~~ out of bed. He was just shuffling his Doc Martens on the doormat when Dean opened the door and looked up at the sound.

“Hello Dean,” Cas said, holding up a shopping bag of movie snacks in one hand and a pie from the corner bakery in the other like an offering.

He was starting to wonder if he had misjudged Cas completely the past two years.

* * * * *

Dean licked his lips and said, “Heya Cas.” Castiel’s eyes tracked the movement and decided that yes, Dean deserved his ego for that mouth alone. He looked back up to Dean’s eyes and raised the food he brought a little higher. “Do you think you can assist me by taking one of these?” he asked. He felt a little silly bringing so much food, but he had become accustomed to certain snacks on the occasion that he watched anything on his laptop (he absolutely loved watching documentaries and older movies), and his mother had taught him at an early age about proper etiquette when visiting someone’s home, which usually included bringing a gift of some sort. He just hoped that Dean enjoyed pie as much as he did.

Dean reached over and grabbed the pie from his left hand and held the door open for Castiel to enter. After closing the door behind them, Dean lifted the lid on the bakery box and took a deep breath, then groaned.

“Dude,” he said breathlessly, “I don’t care what you said before. You brought apple pie, you are my new best friend.”

The declaration made Castiel smile widely, but when Dean looked at him like he grew another head, he quickly schooled his features.

“I appreciate that, Dean,” he said, careful to keep his voice neutral. “Apple pie is my favorite dessert, and thought you might… appreciate it.” Castiel cursed himself for sounding so redundant. Since when was he anything less than articulate?

Dean just chuckled at that. “Sure man, I always appreciate good pie,” he said with a wink. “I’m just gonna put this in the kitchen. Want me to take those, too?” he asked, gesturing to the bag of movie snacks.

Castiel handed the bag over, explaining, “Gabriel has told me a lot about your brother, including his love of healthy food. Or as my cousin calls it, ‘boring food.’ I anticipated that Sam may not have the type of snacks that Gabriel would enjoy, so I took the liberty of bringing some.” With a small smirk, he added, “consider this my contribution to keeping things amical between your brother and my cousin.”

“Good thinking, Cas,” Dean laughed, taking the bag and heading off to the kitchen.

Alone now and not knowing what to do with himself, he looked around the room he was standing in. There was a fairly new drum kit, and Castiel wondered who got the most use out of it. He saw the cello that Dean regularly used at practice, sitting next to an electric cello. He had never tried one before, never having the desire nor the opportunity, and wondered how it sounded. Then there was the piano. He admired the old Steinway baby grand set up to one side of the room, chuckling at the thought of Sam’s large frame sitting there. Sitting on top was a couple stacks of handwritten sheet music, and Castiel indulged his curiosity by flipping through the pages. He was a fan of Sean Connery as James Bond and had never seen a Bond movie that he wasn’t in, but he knew the theme to _Live and Let Die_. He wondered who did the composition, because it looked amazing.

Cas was startled by the front door opening and a shout of, “what’s up, bitches?” He looked up to see Charlie come in, Kevin behind her, and her face lit up when she saw Castiel. “Cas!” she said, rushing him with an unexpected hug. He just kind of floundered, not knowing where to put his hands. She grabbed his shoulders and asked with a wink, “you ready to have your cherry popped?”

“I guess there’s no time like the present,” he said hesitantly. When Charlie left him with a cheery, “bitchin’!”, Kevin made his way over for hellos. Dean and Sam returned in time for Sam to answer a knock at the door.

“Whatcha think, Cas?” Dean asked, nodding down at the music Castiel still held. He blushed and set the sheets back down.

“I apologize, I didn’t intend to pry,” Castiel told him sheepishly.

“Don’t sweat it, man,” Dean said with a smile. “Sammy’s always putting together fun shit for me to play.” Dean looked up at Sam as he returned to the room with Gabriel. “Did you still wanna give this a shot tonight?” he asked his brother.

“Sure, why not?” Sam said with a shrug. “Kevin going to play the second part?”

“Actually,” Castiel interrupted, “may I try it?”

Castiel received another shocked look from Dean. “Dude, not sure this is really your thing. I mean, it’s James Bond.”

“I am aware who James Bond is, Dean,” Castiel replied dryly. “However, one could argue if it were truly a James Bond theme, as everyone knows that Sean Connery is the only true James Bond, but in _Live and Let Die_ he was portrayed by Roger Moore.”

The entire room went silent as everyone stared at Castiel. He was starting to feel embarrassed at his comment, thinking maybe he offended the others, when Charlie stage-whispered, “Dude, I think you just gave Dean a boner.” Dean blushed and shot Charlie a dirty look while everyone cracked up laughing.

Castiel relaxed again as Sam sat down at the piano and sorted the music out while Dean set up a couple music stands. Charlie pulled the stool out from behind the drum kit for Castiel while Dean got out the amp for the electric cello. He passed it over to Castiel, who sheepishly said, “I’ve never played on an electric cello before and am not quite comfortable with it, may I use your traditional?”

Again with the silence in the room, again with Dean blushing as he said, “yeah Cas, that’s okay,” and brought him the traditional cello. This time, it was Dean receiving the odd stares as he perched himself on the edge of the piano bench next to Sam with the electric cello. He sorted out the music on his stand for a minute before looking up and asking, “so, are we gonna do this or not?”

* * * * *

Dean looked at Sam expectantly, resolutely ignoring the look of shock on his brother’s face. So what if he let Cas use his mom’s cello? It’s not like he’d never let anyone else play it before. Or touch it. Or even look at it funny. Okay, so maybe this is a first for him. But this was Cas. So maybe the dude didn’t know he was playing his mom’s cello, but he’s played next to the guy for two years and he’s treated his own instrument with nothing but care and respect. It wasn’t like he was gonna trash his mom’s cello for no reason or anything. Besides, how could he _not_ trust a smile like the one he got earlier?

_God, he was so fucked._

He raised his bow and quirked an eyebrow at Sam to start. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cas raise his bow as well. Sam started the opening measure of [_Live and Let Die_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6UMla4zYpoc) on the piano with Dean and Cas joining in almost immediately. It flowed beautifully, and Dean thought it suited Cas’ style, and hoped he could keep up when the tempo picked up. His eyes kept flitting over to Cas, who was playing giving that same big smile at the tempo change, clearly enjoying himself.

The tempo changed frequently between the longer, slower bow strokes flowing over idyllic notes and the fast rock tempo Wings was famous for. Dean definitely enjoyed watching Cas embrace his inner rock god, and every time he caught Cas looking at him, it was like Cas was seeing him for the first time, and he liked what he saw.

_Yup, totally fucked._


	5. Chapter 5

The rest of the evening seemed surreal to Castiel. It seemed as though everyone’s attention was divided between himself and Dean, mostly with puzzled or inquisitive looks. He reminded himself that it may be due to the fact that he and Dean were basically rivals and had never socialized like this before, but he felt there was something more going on that he didn’t understand.

The other thing he noticed was his cousin and Dean’s brother cuddled into a corner of the room, whispering conspiratorially and eyeing him and Dean. He didn’t know Sam very well, but he knew Gabriel loved his schemes and wondered what he was trying to talk his boyfriend into. Dean must have sensed something was up with the two men as well, and confronted them about their whispers and giggling.

“What are you two chuckleheads cooking up over there?” Dean asked them warily.

“Whatever do you mean, Deano?” Gabriel asked with feigned innocence, batting his eyelashes. Sam snorted at that and rolled his eyes.

“It’s no big deal,” Sam told him. “Gabe’s planning the Speakeasy’s annual MADD fundraiser. I told him I’d help him this year.”

Castiel knew the club Gabriel played at hosted the fundraiser every year for Mothers Against Drunk Driving; the owner had lost her teenage daughter to a drunk driver over a decade ago. He thought it was admirable that Sam would be willing to take on assisting with an event this big after only knowing Gabriel a short time, but Dean’s jaw clenched and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Sam stood up and rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Dean,” he said softly, but with confidence. “It’ll be a good thing. We were actually just talking about how to get you involved. It might help.”

Castiel was confused. Had Dean and Sam lost someone to a drunk driver? Did the subject make Dean uncomfortable, or even sad over such a loss? If so, maybe he could provide some solidarity for Dean, as an olive branch for their newfound friendship. Before he could think better of it, he stood beside Dean and telling him, “If you would like to contribute, I would be glad to assist where I can.”

* * * * *

Dean whipped his head around to face Cas. The icy blue eyes that used to weigh and measure him and find him disdainful (to say the least) were now looking at him with sincerity. He honestly didn’t know what to do with that, but he found he liked the look on the man’s face. With a weak smile, he said, “thanks, Cas.” He needed to find another beer, STAT.

After grabbing himself another brew from the fridge, Dean leaned against the counter, thinking about what Sammy was asking of him. Their mom was killed by a drunk driver when Dean was only five, Sam barely a year old. Sam didn’t remember her, not like Dean did, all smiles and sunshine and warm pie and _home_. It’s why he held on tightly to anything and everything that reminded him of her. Sam knew this, and it was probably why he thought he could sucker Dean into helping out with this fundraiser thing Gabe was gonna do. He just didn’t know if he’d be able to deal with the onslaught of memories that he knew would come with it.

Downing his beer in a few gulps, he tossed the empty and grabbed a fresh one before heading back into the living room. Charlie and Kevin had joined in on the fundraiser talk now, so there was no way Dean could avoid it. They were all so animated, throwing out ideas and making plans with barely any idea of what it was costing Dean.

“We do jazz pretty much every year,” Gabe was telling them, “but once we did a themed show, where we all played music by one artist. It’s been a while, maybe another themed event is what we need to bring in more people.”

“Do you guys ever do anything more modern?” Charlie was asking, and Gabe snorted.

“There’s modern jazz,” he rolled his eyes at her, “it just sounds timeless. It’s one of the reasons I love it so much.”

“I know that,” she said, “but what about something that _feels_ more modern, like anything from the pop charts? People would definitely come to hear music they already know they like.”

“The whole reason people go to the Speakeasy, to hear something other than what’s played on the radio,” Sam argued.

“Why not both?” Dean said with a shrug. “Ever thought about playing more popular music like it was an orchestral piece? Sammy’s put together a lot of pieces for me so I don’t get bored with the same old Beethoven, Bach, and Rachmaninov.”

Cas looked at Dean and cocked his head to one side. “You may be onto something, Dean. What about combining both classical and modern? Most popular music is derived from the same melodies and rhythms as classical anyways, so why not show a smooth transition between the two?”

The room was quiet for just a moment before Gabe jumped up and Cas, kissing him on the cheek. “That’s why I love you, Cassie! I love that big brain of yours!” Gabe did a little happy dance that made everyone laugh before plopping himself squarely in Sam’s lap. “Think you could put together a show’s worth of pieces like that, Sammich?”

Sam looked nervous. “I don’t know. How many pieces would you need and how far off is the show?”

“About two hours worth,” Gabe said thoughtfully. “It’s November now, but the benefit’s not until May. Would that be enough time?”

Sam nodded. “I think I could swing it, but we need a backup plan, just in case.”

“What about a DJ, spinning mixes of classical and modern in between live sets?” Charlie asked. “I’ve seen some pretty wicked shows in the past with something similar, and it would definitely fill the time. Half live, half spin?”

“Do you know any good DJs?” Gabe asked her.

“Oh yeah,” she replied with a wicked grin, “just let me check with her first.”

“Sounds like you have yourself a show,” Dean said with a tight smile. “Can we start the movie now?”

Everyone agreed to that, all anxious to see Cas’ reaction to Star Wars. They all moved into their little TV room, Charlie and Kevin taking up the recliners and Sam and Gabe sprawling on the floor, leaving the loveseat for him and Cas. When he saw the conspiratorial smiles on everyone’s faces, he wondered if that was intentional.

* * * * *

Castiel had gotten swept up in everyone’s excitement about planning the benefit show, but when they settled for the movie he was once again unsure of himself. Somehow, he had ended up shoulder to shoulder with Dean on the loveseat in their den. Both he and Dean had been tense trying to get comfortable without invading each other’s personal space too much, but they both relaxed as the movie continued. He was well aware of how everyone kept glancing at him to see how he enjoyed the movie, and only hoped that they weren’t able to see how Dean’s proximity was affecting him.

When he saw Dean at rehearsals, he seemed to alternate between cocky arrogance and willful determination. Now that he knew the man outside of that environment, it seemed like all the bravado was for show, that who he was around those he cared about was the real him. He laughed more easily, his smile more sincere and lighting up his eyes like nothing Castiel had seen before. Dean was definitely more open and relaxed, and he thought the look suited the man.

Dean caught him staring and chuckled, leaning over to whisper, “Not for nothing, Cas, but the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid,” and winked at him. Castiel could feel the blush creeping into his face as he snapped his head forward to face the television. He quickly stood and mumbled something about popcorn before escaping the room.

Once in the kitchen, Castiel steadied himself against the counter. He took a few deep breaths before putting a bag of Pop Secret into the microwave. As he listened for the telltale lack of popping that indicated that the popcorn was ready, his mind flipped Dean’s statement over and over in his mind. Maybe it was because it had been a long time since he had been with someone intimately, being as picky as he was about his partners, but now he couldn’t get the idea of Dean pinning him to the mattress out of his head.

He poured the popcorn into a bowl and headed back towards the den with one question on his mind-what kind of lover would Dean be? Maybe if he had been more preoccupied with where he was going, he would not have run into the man, spilling popcorn everywhere.

* * * * *

Dean wasn’t surprised that Cas was jumpy, the way he ran from the room. He’d only wanted to see how the guy reacted to being flirted with, not scare him half to death. He just hadn’t expected him to spill his popcorn everywhere. He chuckled as he bent down to help Cas pick it up, dumping the spilled popcorn into the trash rather than back into the bowl.

“I-I apologize, Dean,” Cas stammered, “I didn’t see you there. I was, I mean, I-”

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean laughed, “shit happens. No harm, no foul, right?”

Cas was still tense, but Dean was awarded another one of those awesome smiles. Dean stood and offered him a hand to help him up. Cas took his hand and ended up standing very, very close to Dean, just looking into his eyes, trying to school his features.

“Thank you,” Cas said earnestly, to which Dean just nodded. He didn’t know how long they stood there like that, breathing in each other’s breath, but he was lost when Cas licked his lips. Before Dean could stop himself, he was crashing his mouth into Cas’.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean Winchester was kissing him. More importantly, he was kissing Dean back. _What?!?_

It was perfect. Dean was the most delicious thing Castiel had ever tasted. He never wanted it to end. It wasn’t near enough time to savor the man’s plush, wet lips before Dean pulled back, sucking in a large breath.

“Holy shit, Cas,” Dean said, shock clear on his face. “I-I’m sorry ‘bout that, man. I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean, I know what I was thinking but I didn’t mean to act on it, and-”

Before he could change his mind, Castiel threaded his fingers into Dean’s hair and pulled him back into that brain-melting kiss.

* * * * *

Holy shit, now Cas was kissing _him_?!?

He hadn’t _meant_ to kiss Cas. He was just asking himself how Cas’ perpetually-chapped lips felt, but his body acted before his brain had. He’d tried to extricate himself, excuse himself for his bad manners, but Cas just pulled him back, and he couldn’t say he regretted it one bit. The man’s mouth was pure sin, and Dean wanted to be a sinner.

Dean moaned when Cas’ tongue ran along the roof of his mouth, making him shiver. Deepening the kiss, his hands snaked around Cas’ waist and pulled him tight against him. Both men breathed heavily through their noses to avoid breaking the kiss, but as Cas squirmed for air their groins made contact and both of their eyes widened at the feel of each other’s erections.

This time, it was Cas that pulled back, looking like a spooked animal.

“I think,” Cas started, then cleared his throat, “I think I should go. Thank you again for this evening, it was very… enjoyable.” He took a few steps back slowly before turning and bolting from the room. Before his brain could come back online, Dean heard the front door close.

As he finished cleaning up the popcorn that had crash-landed on the floor, his brain made circles around that kiss. Actually, it was more about the man behind that kiss. Cas _freakin’_ Novak, the straight-laced, buttoned-up, play-by-the-rules classical cellist that had been a pain in Dean’s ass since he showed up. Cas _freakin’_ Novak, with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, hair that always made him look freshly fucked, and kissed like there was a fire inside him.

How the hell was this even his life? Why did it have to be the man that insisted he was the better cellist, that he deserved first chair? And most importantly, how did he get himself another one of those kisses?

* * * * *

Castiel’s brain was on a repeat loop as he drove the fifteen miles home. He kept trying to process how he ended up in Dean Winchester’s arms, kissing him like he did. While he stopped caring years ago what his mother thought of his sexuality, he was still thoroughly appalled by his lapse in etiquette and poise and his mother would be, too. He was raised to maintain a certain level of decorum, to exude confidence and professionalism, and to be the best in his chosen career. Letting that fall apart over one Dean Winchester, his co-worker as well as rival, was asking for trouble. And Castiel Novak did _not_ get into trouble.

A little voice in the back of his head asked him _why not?_ Why not, indeed. Castiel had always led a staid, stable, predictable life. He always knew where he had to be and when, always had his affairs in order, and was able to enjoy his free time in a manner he saw fit.

But he’d enjoyed himself tonight, more than he did in a long time. He’d enjoyed being around such lively people, learning about new things and engaging in conversations he normally wouldn’t. He’d played music he’d never been inclined to try before and found that it was an exciting and pleasurable experience. Sam’s composition was well done and artfully arranged. And playing it with Dean, with his exuberance and joviality? That was the icing on the cake.

He had no idea when he started developing an infatuation on the man, but he found himself smiling, thinking that maybe it was time for him to get into a little trouble.

* * * * *

“Hey, Deano,” Gabriel asked, he and Sam entering the kitchen. “Where’s Cassie at?”

Dean just shrugged and played it cool. “Dunno, just said he had to take off.”

“Oh my God, Dean, did you scare him off with your First Chair bullshit?” Sam asked, exasperated.

“No,” Dean said defensively. “I actually liked hanging out with him tonight.” Dean smiled. “I liked performing with him, we make a good team.” Sam gave him a look, then looked at Gabriel, who waggled his eyebrows at the taller man.

“Does that mean I can count on you guys to do a couple duets for the benefit show?” Gabriel asked, both he and Sam giving him predatory smiles.

Dean sighed. He knew he’d get roped into this one way or another. However, this at least suited his agenda, which was to spend a little more time with Cas outside the orchestra hall and see what was going on between them. He was sure Sam could whip something up for them that suited both their musical tastes, giving Cas even more of a reason to stick it out.

“Okay, if Cas is in, so am I,” Dean told them


	7. Chapter 7

Rehearsals the following week weren’t nearly as awkward as Castiel thought they might be. He and Kevin had been reviewing their parts for _Dance of the Hours_ on Monday when Dean strolled in with a wave and a friendly, “Hey, Cas!” Their day had proceeded almost normally, with the exception of less hostile tension between the two men. That in and of itself had made rehearsals much smoother, and even the conductor remarked on the improved cooperation between them.

Neither men mentioned the kiss. They made small talk about the weather, their pieces, even how Castiel had enjoyed the movie Friday evening before he left. When the topic of the benefit at Gabriel’s club came up, Dean seemed a little hesitant, yet still spoke with his normal confidence.

“So, Sammy wants us to play a few songs together,” he said casually. “I told him I’m cool with it, if you are. What do you think?”

What did Castiel think? He smiled to himself at the memory of their impromptu performance Friday night. Couple that with the anticipation of spending more time with Dean in order to prepare for the show, and he was almost vibrating in his skin. If he were ever to break from the norm and embark on an adventure, this would be it.

“I would definitely be amenable to that,” Castiel replied. “Will your brother be arranging the pieces, or did you have something else in mind?”

“Sam’ll do the arrangements,” Dean said, grinning. “He said he had some great ideas, and he’s already started putting them on paper. We should have something to work with next week, maybe the week after, depending on how many lessons he has coming up.”

“He’s very talented, both at playing and composing,” Castiel observed. “Does he do anything other than give private lessons?”

“Nah,” Dean said with a shrug. “He tried teaching classes after he got outta school, but he likes working one on one with the kids. Says he can give them better attention and help them more like that. Our aunt keeps telling him he should get some of his work published, he’s that damned good, but Sammy’s happier with the kids.”

“Is your aunt musically inclined as well?” Castiel asked.

“Ellen’s not our aunt by blood, she just kinda adopted us when shit got rough with our dad. She loves music, but she says the only thing she can play is the radio,” he said with a chuckle, which Castiel reciprocated.

“Well, Sam is very talented, and I’m sure he would succeed at anything he put his mind to.”

Dean beamed proudly. “Thanks, Cas.” He gave Castiel a light slap on the shoulder and a smile and headed back to the percussion section to chat with Charlie.

“So you and Dean are getting along now?” Kevin asked Castiel, startling him.

“So it seems,” Castiel said with a small Cheshire grin.

* * * * *

Getting Cas to happily agree to playing with him for the benefit seemed like a big step forward to Dean. He was getting more and more of those small smiles from Cas, but he’d yet to get another one of those heart-stopping, wide gummy smiles of his. Dean had a plan for that, though.

By Friday he and Cas had been talking more, and Dean felt a little more confident about asking the man to hang out outside of practice. Gabriel was back at the Speakeasy that night, and he knew Sam was gonna be there watching his boyfriend’s band. Maybe with his brother there, Cas would see it more like hanging out and less like a date and would agree to go with them.

As he was screwing up his courage to ask, the man in question came up to him first.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said cheerfully. “Ready for the weekend?”

“I believe so,” he said somewhat nervously. “However, I was hoping for your assistance with something.”

“Sure, man. Whatcha need?”

“The Paramount Theater downtown is showing something called the _Back to the Future_ trilogy tomorrow afternoon. I’m taking to heart your advice on expanding my exposure to pop culture and was wondering if that would count. It appears to be several decades old, so I don’t know if that would count as recent, as far as movies would go.”

This was the opening Dean was looking for. “Hell yeah, it counts! _Back to the Future_ is awesome! You’re gonna love it! It’s one of my favorite trilogies, up there with _Indiana Jones_ and _Star Wars_.”

Cas cocked his head to one side. “But _Star Wars_ has more than three movies, how is that considered a trilogy?”

Dean laughed. “There’s the original trilogy, Episodes four, five, and six, then there’s the new trilogy, Episodes one through three, which aren’t nearly as good as the original trilogy. The new trilogy just started with Episode seven. It’s pretty decent so far.”

“So _Star Wars_ is, in fact, a trilogy of trilogies?” he asked, slightly confused.

“I guess so,” Dean said with a smile. “I think I may head out to the theater tomorrow, too. I haven’t seen _Back to the Future_ on the big screen since I was a kid.” _And there’s the lead-in…_

“Perhaps you would care to join me? I would appreciate the company.”

“Sounds like a date!” Dean said happily. Cas graced Dean with one of those big smiles he was looking for. This was gonna be _awesome_.

* * * * *

This was so _not_ awesome. Cas asked questions throughout all three movies, earning them harsh shushes from the other theatergoers and keeping Dean from enjoying the experience. Did the man not know how to suspend belief for a couple hours and enjoy the movies?

“It’s _fiction_ , Cas. It’s not supposed to be accurate,” Dean tried explaining as they left the theater.

“I understand that, Dean,” Cas said with exasperation in his voice. “However, it would have been far more enjoyable if the science were correct. Not to mention that obtaining plutonium is nowhere near as simple as the doctor made it out to be.”

“Dude, you don’t go to the theater for science, you go for the story. Who cares if the science is right or not?”

Cas stopped in front of Dean and crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. “Are you telling me that when you watch movies that contain elements you have knowledge about, that you don’t get irritated when it’s incorrect?”

Cas had a point, it’s why Dean couldn’t stand the _Fast and the Furious_ movies. However, he was not gonna lose this argument. “It’s called science _fiction_ and _fantasy_ for a reason, Cas. _Fantasy_. As in, who cares if any of it is supposed to be real? The point is, you’re supposed to enjoy it.”

“Well, it was difficult to enjoy when the scientific terms were not only incorrect but the made-up ones sounded completely ludicrous.”

“How about we just agree to disagree on this, okay?” Dean said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was quickly losing patience with Cas and was wondering if any of this would be worth it in the end.

* * * * *

Castiel was wondering if continuing this farce would be worth it. It was obvious that he and Dean approached entertainment differently. He was unsure what they could do together outside of rehearsals to spend time together. He sighed as they walked down the street in sullen silence.

As they approached a Barnes & Noble, he paused. “Would you like to get a coffee?” he asked skeptically.

Dean just shrugged. “Sure, why not?” As Dean just walked right past him and into the bookstore, Castiel just sighed and followed. Shortly inside, as he was musing on if this ‘date’ could get any worse, he ran into Dean when the man stopped abruptly in front of a display.

“No way,” Dean whispered, picking up a copy of Vonnegut’s _Slaughterhouse Five_. This particular copy was bound in leather with gilded edges, with stickers on it proclaiming “Barnes & Noble Exclusive!” and “20% Off for B&N Members”.

“You enjoy Vonnegut?” Castiel asked, surprised.

“Hell yeah!” Dean said enthusiastically. “Dude’s a frickin’ genius!”

“Which is your favorite?” Castiel asked, seeing a point of common interest.

“ _Cat’s Cradle_ ,” Dean said with a smile, “though _Mother Night_ was pretty awesome, too.”

“ _Mother Night_ is my favorite,” Castiel said. “ _Cat’s Cradle_ is also excellent, though. What other authors do you enjoy?”

As it turned out, Castiel and Dean had very similar tastes in books. They ordered coffees from the Starbucks and sat and talked for several hours about Vonnegut, Safran, Robbins, and more eclectic contemporary books like _Soul Enchilada_ by David Macinnis Gill, which Dean recommended to Castiel. This was much more enjoyable for Castiel and he was actually excited to find some common ground with the handsome man.

The two actually stayed there at the store until it closed, Castiel purchasing a copy of _Soul Enchilada_ while Dean signed up for a B&N membership and purchased several leather-bound books, including the copy of _Slaughterhouse Five_ he originally picked up. They left the store happy and laughing over conversation about favorite characters.

When they reached the movie theater parking lot and their vehicles, Castiel found it hard saying goodnight to Dean. He wanted to continue talking with the man who was much more intelligent than he led others to believe. They stowed their purchases in their cars, and when Castiel turned back Dean was crowding him against the driver’s door.

“I had fun tonight, Cas,” Dean said with a sexy smile.

“Movie notwithstanding,” Cas laughed, and Dean agreed with a chuckled “yeah”.

They stood there breathing each other’s air for a heartbeat before Dean leaned in and kissed Castiel. It wasn’t the fast, passionate kiss they shared last Friday; it was soft, sweet, tentative. Dean placed his hands on Castiel’s hips and pressed in, exploring Castiel’s mouth with lips and tongue. Castiel reciprocated in kind, allowing the sensual kiss to envelop him.

Dean stepped back with a genuine smile on his face. “Good night, Cas,” he said, and got into his car.

“It certainly is,” Castiel smiled to himself.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean woke up Sunday morning to something hitting him in the face. When he lifted his head from his pillow, he saw a balled-up pair of socks next to his head and his brother standing in the doorway.

“The hell was that for, bitch?” Dean grumbled.

“It’s almost noon, jerk,” was Sam’s reply. “Get your lazy ass up, I have a piece I want to run by you.” Sam grinned at his brother then left, slamming the door behind him. Dean winced at the sound.

Dean didn’t want to get up, but figured he’d better before Sammy decided to just bring the sheet music to his room and camp out on his bed. When his kid brother got excited about something, it consumed him. Usually it was infectious, but all Dean wanted to do was lay there and think about Cas.

He closed his eyes and thought about kissing Cas last night. He could get lost in that man’s mouth. Dean dragged a hand up his naked hip, Cas’ hand there in his mind’s eye. He could almost pretend it was Cas touching him, and his dick stirred beneath the sheets.

Sam banged on the door again, yelling, “come on, Dean!”

Dean groaned, fantasy aborted. He sluggishly got up and pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and a tee, mindlessly heading to the kitchen for coffee. He had a feeling this was gonna be a long day.

* * * * *

Castiel sat at his computer, unsure of where to start. He had woken up at his usual six in the morning to run, shower, and eat. On the weekends he would spend the mornings practicing, but after his date with Dean the previous night he didn’t feel the urge to pull out the classical pieces. Instead, he was determined to find some modern music that appealed to him.

He decided to start with The Beatles, since he already knew he enjoyed the song _Hey Jude_. He navigated to YouTube and pulled up a lyrics video, smiling as he listened. From there it was like roulette, searching the recommended video links and just clicking at random. Sometimes it was a funny or interesting song title and sometimes it was the name of a band, and it was more miss than hit. However, he did find a few he enjoyed. He stumbled upon a group called Mumford & Sons. The song [_Awake My Soul_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gzM69btqtYI) loaded, and he read the lyrics as the song played.

_How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes  
I struggle to find any truth in your lies  
And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know  
My weakness I feel I must finally show  
  
Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all  
But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall  
Lend me your eyes I can change what you see  
But your soul you must keep, totally free  
Har har, har har, har har, har har  
  
Awake my soul, awake my soul  
Awake my soul  
  
How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes  
I struggle to find any truth in your lies  
And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know  
My weakness I feel I must finally show  
Har har, har har, har har, har har  
  
In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die  
Where you invest your love, you invest your life  
In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die  
And where you invest your love, you invest your life  
  
Awake my soul, awake my soul  
Awake my soul  
For you were made to meet your maker  
Awake my soul, awake my soul  
Awake my soul  
For you were made to meet your maker  
You were made to meet your maker_

When the song ended, Castiel sat there dwelling on the lyrics. He could feel the shift in consciousness as he replayed it and listened again, from naïve youth to wisdom as the song progressed. Yes, he definitely enjoyed this music, and he clicked the link for the next song from the group.

* * * * *

Gabriel announced himself by first knocking, then entering Castiel’s home with a loud, “hey, Cassie!” Castiel looked up, then looked back down at the clock in the corner of the computer screen. It was late, and he had done nothing productive that day. He smiled at himself. _Good_.

“Whatcha up to today?” Gabriel asked, leaning over Castiel’s shoulder to see his laptop screen. Castiel’s stomach took that moment to protest loudly at the fact that he had skipped lunch.

“Getting ready for dinner, apparently,” was Castiel’s response. “Would you care to join me?” Castiel got up from the table and headed to the refrigerator.

“That was the plan, but I thought you’d already have something made,” Gabriel replied, taking Castiel’s seat and scrolling through his browser history. “Did you actually spend the day on the internet instead of following your meticulous schedule?” Castiel turned to face Gabriel and nodded slightly, a faint blush rising in his cheeks. Gabriel just grinned and said, “you rebel,” before turning back to Castiel’s laptop.

As Castiel prepared them a meal of sautéed fresh vegetables and pasta, Gabriel clicked through the music videos that he had watched earlier. “Looks like you’ve been a busy bee,” he cousin commented. “What brought this on?”

Castiel just shrugged one shoulder as he stirred the food. “It has been brought to my attention that my knowledge of popular culture is woefully out of date. I was simply trying to remedy that.”

“Uh huh,” Gabriel hummed. “And you’re doing this just because, not to impress anyone or anything.”

“Perhaps a bit of both, though I was truly interested.” Castiel drained the pasta and tossed it in a large bowl with the vegetables. “I’ve actually managed to find quite a bit of enjoyable music. I’m particularly fond of Mumford & Sons. Do you have any favorites?”

“Back the truck up,” Gabriel said, his head whipping in Castiel’s direction. “I was joking. Who the hell are you trying to impress?”

“Does it matter?” Castiel hedged. He was unsure how Gabriel would react to the news he was pursuing his boyfriend’s brother.

“Uh, yeah, it matters,” Gabriel stated, rolling his eyes. “You haven’t dated anyone since college, you’ve always been too focused on your career. I wanna know who’s special enough to catch your eye.”

Castiel chewed his lower lip, thinking. Gabriel may just be happy for him. However, knowing his cousin, he would become overexcited and decide he would be Castiel’s “wingman”.

Well, Castiel _did_ want an adventure, but was this what he had in mind?.

* * * * *

“What gives?” Sam asked Dean, eyeing him suspiciously. “You love AC/DC, but it’s like you don’t even care right now.”

Dean sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn’t get Cas out of his head. If it were just Cas, it wouldn’t be a big deal, but now he’s gotta think about the fact that Cas is Sam’s boyfriend’s cousin. If shit hits the fan, things were gonna get real awkward, real quick.

“Just got shit on my mind, okay?” he replied defensively.

“Yeah, right,” Sam snorted. “I haven’t seen your panties this twisted since you got serious with Lisa Braeden.” Sam had a lightbulb moment, then stared at his brother. “Holy shit, are thinking about getting serious with someone?”

Dean turned away so his brother couldn’t see him fucking _blushing_. Everyone knew Dean was a flirt, even thought he was a player because of it. Fact of the matter is, Dean wasn’t a man-whore; he liked the chase, but the follow-through left a lot to be desired. The people he pursued tended to be lacking in one way or another, and he couldn’t force himself past it.

Cas was a whole other animal. The movie snafu aside, he seemed to be what Dean had always looked for-a hot body, a great mind, a good work ethic, and the man could kiss like nobody’s business. When he wasn’t hiding behind his stiff professional persona, Cas was actually pretty awesome.

“Just thinkin’, okay? It’s nothing,” Dean said, not wanting to get into it with his brother. He refocused on the sheet music in front of him. “We gonna do this or what?”

With a sly smile, Sam turned back to the piano. He started playing the piece, and Dean closed his eyes to try imagining playing it. Without trying, he immediately pictured Cas playing it with him, making him smile again.

Yeah, he might be thinking about getting serious.


	9. Chapter 9

Cas was already in his seat at the practice hall when Dean arrived Monday morning, cello and music out and already warming up with Kevin. Dean stood in the entry and watched him for a few minutes; he looked graceful, closing his eyes as he played through several scales effortlessly. Dean really couldn’t believe this was the same person who’d given him so much grief since his arrival. Whether the change was how Cas was acting or how Dean saw him now, he didn’t know or care.

Dean pulled a folder of music out of his messenger bag and approached Cas, not disrupting his practice. When Cas finished and opened his eyes, he saw Dean standing there and smiled. Dean’s stomach did something funny, but he thought that was probably just the McMuffin he grabbed on the way in.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas,” Dean replied with a smile. He held the folder out and said, “Sammy finished a piece for us for the show. Though maybe you’d wanna look at it and figure out when we could meet to practice.”

Cas took the folder from Dean and opened it to look at the first page. His head tilted to one side as he looked over it briefly, then he set the folder under his chair. “Thank you, Dean. Perhaps we can discuss this further after rehearsal, maybe over dinner?”

Dean blinked, then smiled. “Are you asking me on a date, Cas?” Dean flirted playfully. Cas’ demeanor didn’t change, though Dean swore he saw a flush creep up Cas’ neck.

“If you’d like to call it that,” Cas replied nonchalantly. “I would simply like to stay focused on our work during rehearsal hours, and keep… _extracurricular activities…_ outside of the concert hall.”

The way that Cas’ voice dropped an octave when he said _extracurricular activities_ made Dean’s dick twitch. He wasn’t sure if Cas was trying to flirt or stay professional, but either way it did something for him.

“Sure, I get it,” Dean said with a grin. “Just let me know when you’re up for some _extracurricular activities_ and I’ll clear my schedule for you.” Dean winked at Cas, then took his seat and prepared for practice. A sideways glance told him he succeeded in flustering Cas.

It was gonna be a fun day.

* * * * *

Now that Castiel was on the receiving end of Dean’s flirting, rather than observing it, he found it much more amusing. Maybe it was because this was much more subtle, the double entendres and innuendo throughout rehearsal without disrupting it. Castiel appreciated both Dean’s attention as well as the man’s ability to focus on what needed to be done.

For the first time in his career, Castiel found himself watching the clock, itching for rehearsal to end. It was difficult keeping focus on the task at hand. Instead, he found himself thinking of Dean. Would they really go over the music he provided this morning, or would they engage in more illicit activities? While he enjoyed their conversation, he was looking forward to tasting more of Dean.

At the end of rehearsal, Dean approached Castiel, a swagger in his bowed legs. Bowed legs that Castiel was certain would feel exquisite wrapped around his body…

Dean cleared his throat, and Castiel looked up at his face, chagrined.

“So,” Dean asked, smiling, “dinner?”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed, noticing his voice drop in pitch again. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes, dinner is amenable. Do you have a preference?”

If anything, Dean’s smile spread wider. “How do you feel about burgers?”

* * * * *

Dean laughed as he watched Cas polish off his full-pound burger. “Dammit, Cas,” he said in amazement, “where do you put it?”

“In my stomach,” Cas responded, as if the question wasn’t meant to be humorous. That made Dean laugh even more.

“I mean, you’ve got an awesome body,” he said awkwardly. “I can’t understand how you can eat like that and not look like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.”

Cas tilted his head to one side (Dean realized this was Cas’ way of expressing confusion) and his eyebrows scrunched together. “I do not understand that reference.”

“Nevermind, it’s a movie reference.” Dean quickly changed the subject, seeing as they struck out on movies and wanted to keep the conversation going in a positive direction. “You wanna look over that music that Sammy put together for us?”

Cas nodded agreeably. After wiping his mouth and fingers of grease, he reached under his seat to pull the music from his own bag. “Why is the piece called _Thunderstruck_?”

“It’s a rock song,” Dean explained. “It’s by a band called AC/DC. It’s one of my favorites, actually. Sammy got the idea to start the arrangement out as a classical piece that kinda, I dunno, morphs into the actual song. It’s pretty badass.”

Cas squinted at the notes on the page, his finger following along as he hummed the upper staves. Dean was amused when he saw where Cas could see the change in the music; his eyes did several passes over the musical phrase to try to find the exact turning point, looking more and more perplexed. He looked up at Dean, back down at the music for a few more moments, then back at Dean.

“This is quite excellent,” Cas said sincerely. “Your brother is an amazing composer. While I would never deem his choice of careers a waste, I will say that should he ever decide to pursue composition and arrangement full time, he would be highly paid and fervently sought out.”

Dean beamed at the compliment to his brother. “I know, right? Kid’s a freakin’ genius. I keep telling him he could even do it part time and keep teaching the kids, but he’s just not having any of it.”

Cas sat down the pages in a neat stack on the end of the table, and with a grin said, “then it’s our gain.” Unbelievably, after finishing off that large burger, Cas pulled his plate back in front of him and started in on his large pile of fries. “I believe I’ll look up the song on YouTube tonight to get a better feel for the musicality. We can plan to meet later this week after rehearsals, if that works for you?”

“I’m good any day except Saturday,” Dean told him. “Charlie and I have plans out of town.” Dean wasn’t about to scare Cas off by telling him they were going LARPing. “Friday night’s probably best, since Sammy will be bugging Gabe at the club, we won’t have him breathing down our necks and telling us how to play it.”

“That sounds fine,” Cas agreed with a smile.

“And,” Dean said, stealing a fry off Cas’ plate and pointing at him with it, “you don’t have to look up the song on YouTube when you get home. I’ve got it on tape out in my car.” He popped the fry in his mouth and grinned as he chewed.

Cas scowled at the stolen fry and pulled his plate closer. “So this band is one you listen to frequently?” he asked.

“Oh yeah! Love me some classic rock!” Dean pulled his wallet out and sifted through it for the cash to pay for their meals. He waited until Cas had a mouthful of food before he put the money down, anticipating an argument. When Cas went to pull his own wallet out, Dean just glared at hi.

“My treat, dude.” Then he said with a wink, “I'm a gentleman, I know how to treat a date.”

Cas mumbled, “I bet you do,” as he put his wallet away, earning another chuckle from Dean.

“Come on,” Dean said, taking Cas by the hand, “I have an idea.”

* * * * *

Dean had Cas follow him about 20 minutes outside of town to Rock Point, a bluff overlooking Kansas City. He pulled up first, having Cas park next to him. The sun was just starting its descent, giving them a gorgeous view of the city below. He left the engine running, windows down, and got out to meet Cas.

Cas cut his engine and stepped out to meet Dean. “This is a spectacular view, but we could have listened to the song anywhere,” Cas stated, eyebrow arched.

Dean just smiled and took Cas by the hand, pulling him over to the driver’s side of the Impala. “Yeah, we could have, but this is gonna be awesome, trust me.”

Dean leaned into the driver’s side window, pushed the tape into the tape deck, then cranked the volume. [_Thunderstruck_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v2AC41dglnM) started with the opening guitar riff, Cas tilting his head to one side as he listened. Dean thought that was freakin’ adorable and continued to watch Cas’ face as the song picked up, the volume seeming to surround them in the clearing. It was like Dean could see the gears turning in Cas’ head; eyes opening and closing, head nodding along with the music, mouth quirking at the corner every now and then. When the song ended, Dean reached in and hit the rewind button on the tape deck.

“So?” Dean asked excitedly. “What do you think?”

Cas took a minute, gathering his thoughts. “It’s not something I would have sought out on my own, but it’s very enjoyable.”

Dean grinned wide at that. “I know, it’s awesome.” He reached into the backseat of the car and pulled out his own copy of the sheet music, then pressed play on the tape deck again. They listened to the song several more times together, following along on the sheet music until the sun had set far enough that they didn’t have enough light to keep going.

“Guess that’s it then,” Dean said, clearing his throat. “See ya tomorrow?”

“Yes, Dean, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Cas smiled, then leaned in to press a chaste kiss to Dean’s lips. Dean tried to deepen it, and when Cas pulled back he leaned forward, trying to get more. Cas just smiled and said, “good night, Dean.” He went back to his car, but before climbing in and taking off, he turned to Dean and winked at him.

_Hot damn_ , Dean thought, waving to Cas as he pulled out of the clearing. He couldn’t wait until Friday.


	10. Chapter 10

As Castiel was climbing the steps to Dean’s front door that Friday, Sam was coming out the front door. Sam slapped him on the shoulder with a jovial, “hey, Cas,” as he passed, jogging towards the Impala. Castiel just smiled, then gave a little wave as Sam pulled out of the drive.

He was happy that Gabriel had found Sam. Sam was a good man-smart, funny, kind-hearted. Gabriel was all of those things as well, but he was flighty. Sam grounded him, and Castiel was pleased with the effect Dean’s brother had on his cousin.

Castiel was also pleased with the effect Dean was having on him. Since becoming closer to the man his musical tastes have expanded, as well as his circle of friends. He felt his collaborations with Dean improved his musical skills as well. He was sure that in another month when their regular chair challenge came around, he would no doubt take the position back.

Castiel raised a hand to knock, but before he could the front door opened. Dean stood there with a grin on his face, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a child who’s had too much sugar. He pulled Castiel in far enough to close the door, then pushed him up against it, pressing his body against Castiel’s and taking his mouth in a brutal kiss. Before Castiel could even respond, Dean pulled back.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all damned week,” Dean said, still smiling. He winked at Castiel and sauntered off into the house.

Castiel was sure this was Dean’s revenge for the short kiss Monday night, and the lack thereof the rest of the week. Their evening would definitely be interesting.

* * * * *

Dean felt rather smug, catching Cas off-balance like that. The few kisses they’d already shared had Dean keyed up and left him wanting more. But _noooooo_. Cas wanted to tease him, drag it out. Well, two could play at that game.

Stopping in the middle of the hallway, he looked over his shoulder at Cas, who still stood there dumbfounded. “Hey man, where’s your cello?” He laughed as he heard Cas curse under his breath and head back out the front door.

Dean had brought a couple sodas out to the music room when Cas returned with his cello, face red. The poor man looked flustered, and Dean almost took pity on him. _Almost_.

“You ready to play?” he asked Cas with a grin, taking a seat with his electric cello. He sat there and waited, bow in the ready position, as Cas tried to orient himself. Dean smiled patiently and watched as Cas removed his trench coat and blazer, unpack his sheet music, unpack his cello, and settle in. When he looked at Dean, Dean just cocked an eyebrow at him in an ‘are you ready yet?’ manner.

Cas took one of the sodas and took a long sip, exposing his throat and moaning as he finished. “Thank you for this,” he told Dean, raising the soda can. Keeping eye contact with Dean, he licked his lips and set the can back down. _Oh, it is ON_.

The first playthrough was rough, but not as bad as Dean had expected a first sight reading to go. He did realize that as much as he thought AC/DC would rock on his electric cello, it would probably sound better on the traditional. He stood up to swap the instruments out, and when he turned around Cas was staring at his ass. He looked up at Dean with a completely innocent look on his face and smiled at him, bringing his bow up to ready position.

Dean pulled the cello in front of him and raised his bow, thoroughly enjoying the look on Cas’ face at that little remark. It took a minute for the other man to pull himself from his thoughts before they started again.

The next few hours passed in a similar manner, with Dean and Cas trading flirty remarks and innuendo as they practiced. Somehow along the way, their chairs got closer and closer together until their legs were rubbing against each other. Dean didn’t know about Cas, but he’d been playing with a raging hard-on for at least half an hour.

When they finally decided to call it quits, both men were flushed and sweaty. Cas put his cello back into its case and leaned it against the doorframe. Packed up and ready to go, he told Dean, “that was very enjoyable, I’m glad I came.” Still playing it cool, he held a hand out for Dean to shake.

Dean took Cas’ hand, then pulled him close. “Not yet, you haven’t,” he said with a smirk, then kissed Cas hard.

* * * * *

Castiel wasn’t surprised when Dean pulled the move he was planning, and he fell into the man’s arms easily. Dean released Castiel’s hand to wrap his arm around his waist, holding him tightly as his other hand snaked into Castiel’s hair. Castiel grabbed two handfuls of Dean’s ass and ground their hips together, making both men groan into each other’s mouths. With more teeth and tongue than lips, they ravaged each other.

When Castiel had to break for air, gasping, Dean furiously unbuckled Castiel’s belt. He then yanked Castiel’s pants and boxers down in one swift movement before grabbing him by the hips and hoisting him up onto the piano.

“God,” Dean said breathlessly, “been wanting to know how you taste for weeks.”

Castiel just whimpered as Dean spread his legs and sucked dark red marks into the insides of his thighs. He leaned back and braced himself, letting his head fall back and his eyes close. He could feel his pulse throbbing harder in his dick the closer Dean moved towards it. He was fairly sure that he was going to end up embarrassing himself at this rate.

That thought proved to be a self-fulfilling prophecy; the moment Dean took one of Castiel’s testicles into his mouth, he came _hard_. Castiel screamed as he shot come all over Dean’s face, then promptly fell back and passed out on the piano.

* * * * *

_Holy shit._

Dean stared at Cas’ spent body just lying there on the piano. That had to be one of the hottest fucking things Dean had ever seen. _Ever_. The man was absolutely gorgeous like this, with his hair even more sexed-up, his lips swollen from kissing, and the pale skin of his thighs flushed, sweaty, and trembling just a little.

Dean ground the heel of his palm into his cock through his pants, trying hard not to shoot off like a bottle rocket as he looked over all the marks he left on Cas’ thighs splattered with come. His eyes shot up to Cas’ face when he heard the man moan.

“I apologize, Dean,” Cas said hoarsely, Dean loving the sound of his fucked-out voice. “It’s been a while for me, and I didn’t anticipate the effect of the past few hours.”

Dean just grinned at him, watching Cas prop himself up on his elbows to watch Dean’s hand on his crotch. With a quirked eyebrow, he asked, “mind if I…?”

Cas waved a hand and replied, “by all means.”

With more dexterity and speed than he thought he had, considering all his blood was in his pants and not in his brain, Dean undid his pants and slid them down. Cas groaned as Dean quickly fisted his cock, stroking it only a handful of times before grunting his release, which he aimed for Cas’ thighs. Cas just moaned at the sight and fell back onto the piano.

“You’re going to kill me, Winchester,” he said, throwing an arm over his face.


	11. Chapter 11

Castiel continued to hide his face under his arm. He was absolutely mortified. He couldn’t remember the last time he came so fast, if ever, and without his dick being touched at all. Dean must think him either oversensitive (which he was, but not _that_ much) or completely inexperienced. He lay there silently waiting for the laughter or derogatory remarks to start.

What he hadn’t expected was to feel a warm, wet rag dragging over his thighs. He looked up to see Dean, face cleaned off and pants pulled up but not buttoned, gently cleaning their mess off his thighs. When Dean looked up and caught Castiel’s eye, he gave a sheepish grin.

“Sorry about that, man,” Dean said, a slight blush tinging his face. “I usually have a little more staying power than that.” He threw the rag onto one of the chairs before extending a hand to Castiel to help him down from the piano.

Castiel pulled his pants up and tucked himself in, fumbling with the button as he fastened them up and tucked his shirt back in. “It has been a while for me, so my stamina was not up to par, either.”

“And by a while you mean…” Dean prompted him.

Castiel thought about it. His last sexual encounter had been in college, before he threw himself into his career. He hadn’t made time for a social life since. As he tried calculating the years, Dean laughed at him.

“Dude, if you gotta think that hard about it, it’s been too damned long.”

“Since college,” Castiel confirmed, and the look Dean gave him made Castiel blush even further.

* * * * *

Dean was flabbergasted. If Cas hadn’t had sex since college, then that means he’d been dry for at least three or four years. He couldn’t fathom going that long without sex.

“Well, it ain’t you, Hot Stuff,” Dean quipped, tugging on Cas’ belt loop. “Just didn’t find anyone who floats your boat?”

Cas cocked his head to the side, scrutinizing Dean and his comment. “I was simply too busy to indulge myself. Besides,” Castiel stated, “my ‘people skills’ are ‘rusty’. I spend most of my time at home or work, and I had no desire to ‘hook up’. And I refused to try to find a partner over the internet,” he finished emphatically.

Dean was starting to get the feeling that he hit a sore spot with Cas. He ran a hand through Cas’ hair, trying to soothe his ruffled feathers. “Hey, that’s totally cool. I get that you’re totally dedicated to your work, and that’s awesome. I’m just glad you took the time to let me in,” he said with a smile. Then with a wink, he added, “And not just because you’re a pretty face. You’re so much more than that, Cas.”

Dean could feel the tension seeping out of Cas, so he must have said something right. “C’mon,” he said, tugging him towards the kitchen, “we’ve had enough excitement for today. Let’s grab something to eat, huh?”

He was rewarded with one of those fantastic smiles, all gums and teeth that Cas was so stingy with. Dean was starting to hope that those smiles were just for him.

* * * * *

Cas took off after they ate a couple BLTs and downed a couple sodas. Dean made sure to clean up the music room, and especially the piano, of any evidence before Sam got home. He leaned against the piano and closed his eyes, remembering how Cas looked sprawled out on top of it. Yeah, that was definitely going in the spank bank.

Uptight Castiel Novak. Dean let out a small chuckle. He still couldn’t believe how he and Cas had gotten to this point. It was barely a month ago when they had their last chair challenge, still flinging insults at each other. If he had to pinpoint when it turned around, it would be hearing Cas play Hey Jude. Dean knew what the song meant to him, but what did it mean to Cas?

Once his brain started, it wouldn’t shut off. Why was Cas so focused on work? Why did he avoid having a social life? Why did it take him so long to get laid? Why didn’t the man smile? Most importantly, why did Dean all of a sudden care?

Dean was just cracking open a beer to chase the questions away when Sam and Gabe stumbled through the front door. Or more to the point, Sam stumbled in with Gabriel wrapped around him like a monkey. His arms and legs were wrapped tightly around Sam’s upper body while his lips were attached to the taller man’s neck. Dean rolled his eyes and cleared his throat. Loudly.

Both men startled at the sound, Gabe pretty much falling off of Sam and landing on the floor with a thud. They tried to stifle their drunken giggling, but they were just too amused at themselves. They laughed so hard Sam almost couldn’t get Gabe up off the floor. Dean just shook his head at the pair.

“How much is the cab fare?” Dean asked, pretty sure both men were so drunk they forgot to pay the cab driver for their ride home from the club. He pulled the front curtain aside just enough to see, yup, a yellow cab waiting out front.

“Ummmmm,” Sam tried to remember, but couldn’t. Dean just grabbed his wallet and headed outside to pay the cab driver.

When Dean came back in the house, neither Sam nor Gabe were still in the room, but Dean could see the trail of clothes leading up the stairs. He hoped this time they remembered which room was Sam’s and which one was his.

* * * * *

Castiel drove home from Dean’s a little less embarrassed and a lot happier than he’d been in years. He had been content with his life, but had forgotten how much he missed intimacy. He snorted to himself; he obviously missed it so much that all he needed was a good tease and a light touch to set him off.

He and Dean hadn’t even progressed any further than those touches. He had assumed with Dean’s “player” reputation that the man would push for another round, but he simply cleaned him up, fed him, and chatted with him. It was very pleasant, but it was completely contrary to what he had previously thought about Dean. Had he missed something before while his head was lost in his work?

The CD in the car stereo switched over to Beethoven’s 5th Symphony, and Castiel turned the volume up a little more. This was his favorite of the composer’s pieces. His fingers skittered across the steering wheel as he listened, a smile tilting his lips. Maybe Sam could use this in one of his pieces.


	12. Chapter 12

Castiel had exchanged a couple texts with Dean over the weekend, along the lines of ‘I enjoyed myself Friday night’ and ‘do you have any plans for the weekend?’ He hoped Dean didn’t think he was being too forward. After the small taste he had gotten on Friday, his mind couldn’t (wouldn’t) stop venturing into scenarios for a “next time”. Mostly, he wondered if Dean were a top or a bottom.

Castiel himself had his regularly scheduled practice plans with Kevin on Saturday evening, but other than that his weekend was free. He had hoped that Dean would be available, but he had been advised that Dean and Charlie had standing plans that couldn’t be changed (although Dean insisted he would if he could). He filled the rest of his weekend watching James Cagney movies, practicing his challenge piece, and practicing _Thunderstruck_. Occasionally he thought about Dean, like when he went to bed in the evenings. Naked. With an erection. Castiel assured himself it was perfectly alright to satisfy himself with the image of freckles and green eyes dancing across the insides of his eyelids..

He didn’t know how to act around Dean at the rehearsal hall on Monday. He had arrived before Dean, and when the man entered the hall he was as jovial and friendly as usual. Castiel thought that maybe Dean smiled a little brighter when he raised his hand and called out, “Heya, Cas!” But that may have been his imagination.

Castiel’s stomach did a somersault when Lisa, a “perky” brunette who played clarinet, approached Dean. He watched as she and Dean smiled and laughed together. What piqued his interest, however, was when she put a hand on his arm and leaned in closer, practically rubbing her chest all over Dean, and Dean just stepped back and shook his head apologetically. She pouted a little, but after another minute she walked away. _Interesting_.

* * * * *

Dean plopped into his First Chair seat next to Cas, giving him a shoulder bump and a smile before getting ready for practice. He was still riding the highs of Friday night with Cas and a weekend of LARPing with Charlie. He was in a great mood.

Practice went great again, as it had been since he and Cas had been getting along better. He chuckled to himself about just how well they’d been _getting along_ lately. He looked at the man as they packed up for the day, noticing his usual demeanor was softer somehow. He was still serious, but looked happier. Once again, how did he get to the point where he cared?

“Hey Cas,” Dean said when a thought popped into his head. When Cas looked up at him and smiled, he hesitated slightly before continuing. “Sammy’s going to the club tonight to see Gabe, was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner.”

“Should I bring anything?” Cas asked him.

“Depends, what are you in the mood for? I was just thinking of ordering pizza or something.” Dean really should have put some thought into this before saying anything, because now he felt a little underwhelming.

Cas just smiled though and said, “I’ll bring some stuff over and cook, if you’re not opposed to it. I rarely have the opportunity to cook for anyone besides Gabriel and myself.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Dean grinned. “What do you have in mind?”

“Let me surprise you,” Cas replied with a mischievous smile. Dean readily agreed and Cas would be at his place about seven. Dean surprised himself once again thinking about how much he looked forward to it, and sex didn’t even factor into it. Weird.

* * * * *

Castiel never thought himself a great cook, but he could make his own meals. However, he made a _fantastic_ burger. He’d experimented with different seasoning in the beef, different cheeses, different toppings. At one point, he even tried his hand at baking his own hamburger buns, but found that baking was something he should never do again.

Burgers were something he’d never been allowed as a child, and when he discovered them in college it was as though Castiel had been given Ambrosia, a gift from the gods. He tried every kind he could get his hands on. That was the last adventure he had undertaken, and Castiel felt some satisfaction blending his last adventure with his newest.

He arrived on Dean’s doorstep with reusable grocery bags in each hand. He had his seasoned grass-fed Angus beef, cheese and toppings, fresh buns from a local bakery, and potatoes for homefries all ready for him to cook up for them. He also had some mini caramel apple pies he would deep fry and two pints of vanilla bean ice cream. Never let it be said that Castiel Novak did not appreciate good food.

He knocked on Dean’s front door several times, but there was no answer. He checked his watch again to make sure he was there on time, and when he looked up Dean had opened the door, standing there barefoot in jeans, chest and hair wet from a recent shower and his face freshly shaven. Castiel gulped.

* * * * *

Dean smirked. Yeah, he timed his shower to get the best reaction outta Cas. Fucker sat there all day at practice looking adorable as he concentrated on his sheet music and his playing, Dean just wanted to sit on his lap and muss him up.

He took a couple bags from Cas and led him back to the kitchen, exaggerating his bowlegged stride. He wanted to get Cas good and riled up, see what the normally prim and proper man would do. Dean pulled out cheese and ground beef and bacon while Cas pulled out veggies and a strange Tupperware container.

“So, what’s on the menu tonight, Cas?” Dean asked playfully, hopping up to sit on the counter next to where the groceries were unloaded.

It was adorable how red Cas got when he was nervous. Dean wanted to just keep teasing him, but figured nothing would get done if he did. Cas cleared his throat before telling him, “I have an affection for burgers of all kinds. I was planning on making you one of my favorite recipes.”

Cas was just too cute. And damn, homemade burgers. Dean stretched over the counter to reach the radio on the other side of Cas and flipped it on, not missing the way Cas’ nostrils flared and he got another shade pinker. Led Zeppelin played loudly over the small radio, startling Cas and making Dean laugh.

“Can’t cook without music!” Dean said cheerfully. He hopped down from the counter and got out a couple cutting boards and knives and asked Cas what needed to be done. “Can’t cook near grease without a shirt,” Cas retorted, and pointed Dean down the hall like a mother scolding her child. He came back wearing an old AC/DC shirt, and the two set to work.

Dean went ahead and pulled out two cast iron skillets and turned on the gas burners. Cas had set up a dutch oven with vegetable oil to cook up the fries and pies. Soon they were working side by side as Dean shaped hamburger patties, and Cas dropped the potatoes into the hot oil and cut the veggies, searing the poblano peppers and onions. Dean bounced along with the music, hip-checking Cas and grinning at him every so often. It’d been awhile since he’d had fun cooking.

Once the veggies and fries were done, Cas went to work carefully cooking the bacon, making sure the grease didn’t splatter Dean’s hands, which were flipping the burgers ever few minutes. “Dean,” he admonished, “you need to let them cook all the way through, they won’t if you keep removing them from the heat like that.”

Dean sat the spatula down on the counter and backed away from the stove with his hands up in surrender, making Cas laugh. He picked up Cas’ Tupperware container of beige stuff and asked, “what’s this stuff?” as he opened it and took a whiff. Whatever it was smelled pretty tasty.

“It’s a chipotle pepper mayonnaise,” Cas told him. “I make it myself. I find that ketchup is too sweet and mustard is too sour for my tastes, so I started experimenting with other flavors. Set that down and toast the buns, please.”

Using the pan Cas used to saute the peppers and onions, Dean quickly toasted the insides of the buns and put them on plates. Before he could start building his burger, Cas instructed him to grab them some beers and relax while he finished up. Dean grabbed the beers, but instead of sitting he hovered over Cas as he built the burgers, slathering on the chipotle mayo before putting on the burgers and stacking them with pepper jack cheese, bacon, lettuce, tomato, peppers, and onions. They both heaped fried potatoes onto their plates and sat at the table to eat.

Dean picked up his burger with both hands, commenting, “I’m gonna need a bigger mouth.” Cas just smiled and practically unhinged his jaw to take a bite of his own burger, grinning around it has he chewed. That should _not_ have gotten Dean as hot as it did. He managed a bite of his own burger and his eyes rolled back into his skull. “Cas, you’re a freakin’ genius,” he said with a mouthful of food.

Cas cocked an eyebrow at him and innocently said, “I’m good with meat,” making Dean choke on a laugh. Dean moaned through most of his food, loving the flavors of the burger and the crispy fried potatoes. When they finished, he took care of the dishes while Cas fried up some little pie-looking things in the hot oil. Once they were set to cool, Cas turned off the burner and dried the dishes while Dean finished washing.

It struck Dean how domestic this was. It should freak him out, but instead he thought to himself _I could get used to this_.


	13. Chapter 13

Kitchen cleaned, Dean grabbed himself and Cas another beer and they headed to the TV room. He decided to play it safe tonight with _Goldfinger_ , because at least he & Cas could agree that Sean Connery was the only real James Bond. Movie in, they both just kinda plopped onto the couch, sipping their beers in tandem.

Dean wanted to talk about what happened last Friday, but at the same time kinda not. He wanted to drape his arm over the man’s shoulder and pull him close, but he didn’t want to break the silent camaraderie they had going on. They watched the movie in companionable silence, Dean admiring both Connery and Honor Blackman. Cas paid rapt attention to the screen, a small smile playing across his lips, and Dean couldn’t help but grin.

Barely half an hour into the movie, Sammy came home from his night out with Gabe, looking a little worn out. He was a little startled to see Cas there, but lit up at the opportunity to talk with them about another piece he put together. Dean paused the movie as Sammy pulled the handwritten sheets from the piano bench. His little brother was practically beaming as he and Cas went over the music. At the transition from the _William Tell Overture_ to Iron Maiden’s _The Trooper_ , Dean started bouncing with excitement.

“This is awesome, Sammy!” he exclaimed, standing up and pacing as he read through the notes. “How the hell do you keep coming up with these awesome ideas?”

Sammy just shrugged with a sheepish grin. “I play the classical station at the same time as your old tape collection and wait for something to mesh,” he explained. “It’s not that hard.”

Cas looked up at Sammy and tilted his head ~~adorably~~ (Dean did _not_ just think that). “Sam, this isn’t something that anyone could just do. This takes a lot of talent, which you repeatedly display in spades.” He quickly scanned through the piece to find a difficult part he was just going over and pointed it out to Sammy. “ _This_ requires skill. You are an exceptional composer, you shouldn’t sell yourself short.”

Sammy blushed like a teenage girl at Cas’ compliment, but Dean was too proud of his brother to crack a joke about it. “Think you guys have time to do a quick practice run?” Sammy asked. Dean was all set, but Cas looked at his watch and frowned.

“It’s getting late, I should be getting home. Dean and I have rehearsals tomorrow.” Cas held up the sheets to Sammy and asked, “may I?” Sammy just nodded, and Cas stashed the sheet music in his messenger bag.

“Don’t worry about your dishes, Cas,” Dean told his friend. “You can pick them up next time you come over. You good for Friday again?”

“That should be fine,” he replied. “Thank you for this evening, I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”

“Yeah, same, Cas.” Dean wanted to hug Cas or something, but it felt awkward with his brother standing right there. The two men just kinda stood there looking at their shoes before Cas shuffled out the door.

* * * * *

Sam watched his brother and Castiel act like a couple of kids in middle school who didn’t know the other had a crush on them. It was cute, really. It’d been a long time since his brother actually took an interest in a person like this instead of just acting like a flirting jackass. He still wasn’t sure what flipped Dean from thinking Castiel was an entitled douchebag, but he didn’t really care. Castiel seemed like a good guy.

“So what did you two get up to tonight?” Sam asked, an edge of joke to his question to fluster Dean.

“Not a whole lot,” his brother replied, not taking the bait. He picked up the empty beer bottles and headed towards the kitchen. “He made me some pretty awesome burgers and,” Dean cut himself off as he looked at the fried pies sitting on the counter. “Shit, we forgot about dessert! Awwwww, man!” Dean checked the see if the little pies were cool enough before picking one up and taking a bite. His eyes rolled back into his head as he sounded like he was having sex with the fried treat. Sam shuddered at the mental image.

Sam snagged one of the pies and ran around the counter to eat it before Dean could stop him, earning his a scowl from his brother. One bite and Sam was convinced Dean’s little performance was worth it. “Oh my God, this is awesome!” Sam said around a mouthful of pie.

“I know, right?!” Dean said, picking up another one and shoving the whole thing in his mouth.

“So, nights in, cooking for each other, playing music together-not your usual kind of dates,” Sam pointed out. “I take it he’s not the asshole you used to think he was?”

After swallowing his mouthful of pie, Dean shook his head and replied, “I don’t think he was an asshole so much as we just didn’t know or understand each other. He’s fun to hang with.”

“Uh huh,” Sam snorted. Sure, Dean enjoyed hanging with Castiel like he enjoyed hanging with Gabriel. He smiled at the thought, thinking about making out with his boyfriend earlier then getting to interrupt his brother’s makeout session. AND he got dessert. He snagged another pie before heading to his room. It had been a good night.

* * * * *

Castiel had just gotten home when he realized that not only had they forgotten about the pies that he’d made for them, but he hadn’t had a chance to kiss Dean again. He sighed in resignation as he dropped his messenger bag on his kitchen table and headed to his room to get ready for bed.

He once again relived the previous Friday evening in his mind as he brushed his teeth and stripped down to his boxers before climbing into bed. If Castiel kept his eyes closed, he could imagine it was Dean grabbing a fistful of his hair instead of himself. He could lightly run his fingertips over his lips and ghost them down his naked torso, and in his mind’s eye they would be Dean’s lips on him. He could take his testicles into hand firmly and give a gentle tug, almost feeling the suction from Dean’s mouth.

With a groan, Castiel stripped off his boxers and wrapped them around his cock, jerking fast and hard until he spent himself into the material. He squeezed himself with his boxers as efficiently as he could before tossing them onto the floor and rolling over naked.

And if he rearranged his pillows so that he felt like he was being spooned, cuddling into the arms of a green-eyed, freckled man? Well, no one else needed to know, did they?


	14. Chapter 14

The weeks went by both too quickly and too slowly for Castiel. He fell into a routine with Dean, practicing the pieces Sam wrote for the benefit show twice a week, although their Friday night practices usually devolved into what his cousin would refer to as “hanging out”. And much to his frustration, Dean hadn’t made another move on him, granting him nothing more than some stolen touches and looks that combined confusion and unadulterated lust. While nice, it wasn’t enough for Castiel anymore.

“Cas!” he heard a voice across the rehearsal hall call out his name. He turned in his seat to see Charlie bounding towards him. “Hey!” she said breathlessly, ever-present smile on her face. “We’re planning another movie night this Friday before Dean & I head to Moondor. We’re meeting at my place this time. You in?”

“What’s Moondor?” he asked, genuinely curious. He knew that once a month Dean had standing plans with Charlie for the weekend, but he had never gone into further detail about it.

“My trusty handmaiden hasn’t been gossiping? That’s a first!” Now Charlie was standing as if she were royalty, addressing her subjects. It made Castiel even more curious.

“Handmaiden?”

“Yep,” she said, popping the p. “We cosplay down in Oklahoma City with a few hundred other people. I am the Queen of Moondor, and Dean is my handmaiden. We make sure everyone is following the rules, organize battles and tournaments, stuff like that. It’s a lot of fun, you should check out the website. Besides, we look totally fabulous in our period clothing. Dean works a pair of breeches like you wouldn’t believe,” she added with a wink.

“Maybe some other time,” Castiel hedged. It did sound like fun, but was unsure how Dean would react to him invading another part of his life like that.

Charlie just shrugged. “Check out the website, I’m sure your inner geek would love it.”

“I believe my ‘inner geek’ and ‘outer geek’ are one in the same,” Castiel chuckled. “As for movie night, I believe I’ll join you. Anything in particular I should bring?”

“More of those little fried pies would be awesome,” Dean interjected. He’d entered the rehearsal hall while Castiel and Charlie had been talking, and had snuck up on them.

Castiel turned to face Dean, melting at the sight of those laughing green eyes. He smiled widely at the man and nodded.

* * * * *

Dean honestly didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. He’d had plenty of opportunities to put the moves on Cas, but every time he got sidetracked by the conversations with him. It wasn’t like Dean to pass up sex to talk, but he found himself enjoying just spending time with Cas, sex or not. He kinda got the feeling that Cas felt the same, since he caught the man staring intently at him so many times but never made a move himself.

Like now.

Seriously, did the man not realize that that wide, genuine smile of his turned Dean into a puddle of goo? They just stood there, smiling at each other for God knew how long when Charlie cleared her throat very loudly and excused herself. Everyone was settling into their seats for practice when Cas handed him a few sheets of music. Dean looked over it and couldn’t help but smile; his musical tastes were rubbing off on Cas.

“This for the show?” Dean asked.

“No, it’s for our chair challenge after rehearsal,” Cas replied.

Dean’s heart dropped into his stomach. _What the Hell?!?_ He’d told Cas about his mom, how important First Chair was to him, but he still insisted on taking it from him? What kind of fresh bullshit was this? Probably why Cas hadn’t made another move on him and why he was still grinning like an idiot.

* * * * *

Castiel had been excited to challenge Dean for First Chair on more even footing, trying to match his playing style instead of finding a piece that played against his weaker points. He had thought Dean would be happy he would be challenged on his merits instead of his weaknesses, but now he was beginning to doubt that. As rehearsal progressed, Dean became more distant and aggressive with his playing.

By the end of rehearsal, he felt as knotted up as Dean looked. When the conductor asked if there was any new business, Castiel stood on weak legs an announced, “Challenging Dean Winchester for First Chair.” He made his way to the podium on handed a copy of the music to the conductor, who glanced at it before nodding to him.

Everyone in the hall looked stunned. Maybe Castiel had judged the entire situation incorrectly. Maybe Dean had assumed that, with their growing relationship (because that’s how Castiel saw it) that Castiel would no longer challenge him for First Chair. Yes, he knew how much that place meant to Dean, but he had also believed that the man had wanted to earn that place, not have it handed to him.

Castiel’s anger grew as they prepared to play. Had Dean played on his affections merely to secure his place in the hierarchy? His current attitude certainly seemed to support the theory.

The song Castiel had chosen was an arrangement of Michael Jackson’s [_Smooth Criminal_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mx0xCI1jaUM&list=PLrRtwIUSeaCEOxW7Ydgq2eDbFA84BdL5F&index=15). The conductor counted off, and the two men started the first few measures of the song softly. It crescendoed quickly, both hitting the strings with their bows aggressively. They glanced furtively at each other throughout the piece, neither man smiling. At the bridge, Dean started finger-plucking the strings as Castiel took the soft yet dangerous melody, until they crescendoed yet again into an explosive performance of the chorus. While it hadn’t been rehearsed, the performance was spectacular, rendering everyone in the hall silent.

After about a minute, the hall erupted in loud applause and wolf whistles. The conductor hit the podium with his baton to clear the noise, but when he announced, “First chair goes to Castiel Novak,” the room became a cacophony of clapping again. Dean slammed his cello into his case and stormed off, Charlie eyeing both men before following Dean.

* * * * *

“Dean!” Charlie called out to him as he stomped out of the building, but he didn’t stop. He opened Baby’s back door and slid his cello case in before slamming the door, wincing at the sound.

“Dean, wait,” Charlie said again, grabbing his shoulder, but he just shrugged it off.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Charlie,” Dean growled at her.

Charlie spun him around and slammed him into his car, surprising him with the strength her size disguised. “Now you listen to me, Dean Winchester,” she almost yelled, poking him in the chest with her dainty but sharp pointer finger. “You have _no right_ to be angry at Cas. First of all, there is _nothing_ wrong with wanting to be the best at his job. Second, that song? That was a sign of respect for _you_. He could’ve picked something he knew you would crash and burn at, but instead he picked something he knew you’d like and be good at. Third, the man loves you and respects the hell out of you. That means he’s gonna make you work for everything, not just hand it to you. Are you gonna open your eyes and see that or pout like a baby who didn’t get what he wanted?”

Dean was just standing there dumbfounded. What Charlie was saying made sense, up until she she said Cas loved him. No friggin’ way was that true. They’d been having fun, but that didn’t mean Cas loved him. He pushed Charlie off of him, got in the Impala, and headed home before she forced him to talk about how he felt about Cas in return. Because honestly? He didn’t even know himself anymore.


	15. Chapter 15

Dean slammed the door when he got home. He slammed his cello case into it’s usual corner. He grabbed himself a beer and slammed the fridge door. Then he gulped half his beer in one go before slamming that down onto the counter, too.

“Hello to you too, sunshine,” he heard. When he looked up, Gabe and Sammy were sitting at the kitchen table, papers covering most of the surface, staring at him with matching bitchfaces. “What’s got your panties in a twist?” Gabe asked. “Someone not getting enough lovin’ from my cousin?”

Dean growled at that, finishing his beer and throwing the bottle into the trash before stomping out of the room. Unfortunately, Sammy and Gabe followed him, his brother asking him a dozen questions about his foul mood.

“Leave it, Sammy,” Dean ground out. He turned on the stereo in the music room, popped in a CD, and cranked the volume before sitting at the drumset. As Led Zeppelin’s _Whole Lotta Love_ started, Dean nodded his head to the music for a few measures before joining in, pounding out the beat. His attack on the drumset was brutal, but it gave him a better outlet for his anger than grabbing the bottle of Johnnie Walker Black he had sitting in the kitchen. He was so for that for the weekend, but no way was he gonna give Cas the satisfaction of showing up at practice tomorrow with a screaming hangover.

When the song ended, Dean was gasping for breath and heaving with exertion. He was gearing up for another go on the next song, but Sammy his the power button. Before Dean could start bitching, Sammy got a word in edgewise.

“I don’t know what you’re bitching and moaning about, but you need to chill the fuck out,” Sammy said sternly, pointing a finger at him. “Cas is coming by to practice tonight, and we need to start tightening down your pieces. We’ve only got about 2 months left before the benefit.”

Dean stood up from behind the drumset and threw the sticks at the opposite wall. “The _hell_ am I playing _anything_ with that conceited asshole!” Dean yelled. Sammy bodily stopped him from stomping off.

“What the hell happened, Dean?” Sammy asked, grabbing Dean by the shoulders. Dean just turned his head to the side and stared at the floor, ignoring his brother. Gabe chuckled and muttered something about not getting any, and that brought Dean’s eyes up in a rage.

“Fuck you, Gabriel,” he snarled. “Cas is a stuck-up rich boy with entitlement issues. He wasn’t good enough to get First Chair on his own, so he decided to fuck with me instead.”

“You arrogant little prick,” Gabe sneered, trying to get past Sammy to get a hold of the asshat slandering his cousin, but was stopped by his moose of a boyfriend.

“What happened, Dean?” Sam asked calmly, trying to keep the peace.

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean grumbled, shaking Sammy off and heading up the stairs to his room.

Sam and Gabriel just stood there, looking between Dean and each other, trying to figure out what the hell happened.

* * * * *

Castiel had been sitting at his cello for hours trying to practice the First Chair part for _Dance of the Hours_ , but he had yet to play it correctly. He was frustrated beyond belief, so he set aside his cello and turned on his stereo. He fiddled with the buttons until Beethoven’s 5th came on, then began swaying in place with his eyes closed. He wanted to let the music wash over him and wash away the mood he was in, but there was a knock at his door.

He opened the door, scowling when he saw Gabriel and Sam. His cousin let himself in with a cheerful greeting, dragging his boyfriend in behind him.

“I am really not in the mood for company,” Castiel frowned at the two. “I’m trying to learn this piece, and you’re disrupting my practice.”

“I thought Monday nights were when you practiced your benefit pieces with Dean,” Sam said.

“I apologize, Gabriel, but I don’t believe we’ll be performing together, after all.” Castiel sighed and sat back down, putting his sheet music away. “I simply can’t work with someone who throws temper tantrums whenever he doesn’t get his way. It’s bad enough I’ll have to continue dealing with him at work.”

“So _that’s_ what that was,” Gabriel said, smacking Sam in the shoulder, “Dean-o was throwing a temper tantrum! Now why would he do that?” he asked Castiel.

Castiel snorted. “Because he expected me to just _let_ him have First Chair. He probably assumed I’d go all “heart-eyed” and be satisfied with second chair as long as I was with him.”

“Ah, so Dean-o couldn’t stand you wanting to be the best,” Gabriel smiled. “Good on you, cuz. Keep being yourself no matter who you’re with.”

Castiel nodded at that, the conversation petering out. The strains of Beethoven’s 5th on repeat filling the silence. But the longer he stood there with Sam and Gabriel’s focus on him, the more he fidgeted, feeling judged. He wanted to say more, but was interrupted by Sam.

“Well, we’ve got stuff to do for the benefit show, especially if we have to find a replacement for you and Dean.”

Castiel blushed awkwardly. “I do apologize to both of you for that, I know that this is important to both of you.”

“It’s ok, Cas,” Sam smiled. “You just take care of yourself and we’ll see you later.” Castiel walked behind them to the door, seeing them out. Alone again, he wondered in Dean was still angry and how he was handling their fall-out. Hopefully better than he was.

* * * * *

“So basically,” Gabriel told Sam as they drove to The Speakeasy, “your brother and my cousin are blind idiots.”

“Pretty much,” Sam snorted. “Dean’s so stubborn, he’s not gonna see this as anything than an attack on him personally. He’s not going to care that Cas wants to be good at what he does, he just wants that damned chair so he can hold on to as much of our mom as possible.”

“And Cassie’s not gonna back down, because his mom hardwired him to be the best at whatever he does.” Gabriel sighed. “I wonder if there were a way for them to both be First Chair, if they’d be able to get past this bullshit.”

Sam parked the car as they pulled up to the club, then just sat there thinking quietly.

“Sammich?”

Sam turned to Gabriel. “I think I have an idea,” he said with a smirk. He pulled out his cell phone, and after a minute he greeted the person on the other end. “Hello, Mr. Turner, this is Sam Winchester… Yes, I know what time it is, but I wanted to talk to you about your offer… I know, and I’m more than willing, but I need to ask for a favor in return…”


	16. Chapter 16

“Absolutely not, Gabriel,” Castiel said. It was the weekend following his pyrrhic victory of a chair challenge. He and Dean were colder to each other than before, causing more headaches to the conductor and the rest of the orchestra for their growing inability to work together.

“Sorry, cuz,” Gabriel replied, popping a Dum-Dum sucker from between his lips. “You already made the commitment, and I can’t find anyone else to take yours and Deano’s spot. Like it or not, you guys are gonna have to play together, preferably nicely.” He crunched the rest of the sucker between his back teeth, using the stick to get the bits of candy unstuck from the creviced surfaces. “Besides, it’s for charity. Are you really gonna bail on a _charity_ because of personality conflicts? That’s totally lame and you know it.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes at his cousin. Gabriel could be persistent, he would give him that. Rather than answer him, he went back to practicing the First Chair part for _Dance of the Hours_.

Without Dean to distract him, Castiel went back to his old routines of working hard both inside and outside of the concert hall. He deemed his misguided sense of adventure a liability to the goals he’d worked towards all his life; to be the best cellist in whatever orchestra he played in, to have a stable life where no one dictated his choices but himself, least of all a demanding partner who insisted on having their way constantly without any consideration for his wants and needs.

Did he say partner? He meant parent. Dean, in his current state, was _not_ partner material. Although thoughts of his mother, her demand of him always being the best, being perfect, weren’t that much better.

“Suck it up, Cassie,” Gabriel said, “you said you’d play the benefit, and there’s no backing out. I suggest you get over yourself and give Deano a call, smooth things over.” He pulled out his phone and poked at it a few times, turning it to show Castiel his calendar. “Christmas is coming up in a couple weeks, then we’ll have about five months until the show. Plenty of time for you guys to work out your differences. It’s just the two pieces that Sammy wrote, how hard could it be?” With a huff, Gabriel left.

Castiel hoped Gabriel’s words would not become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

* * * * *

“Nope. Not happening, Sammy,” Dean yelled over his shoulder at his brother. He was elbow deep in his beloved Impala giving her an oil change. He could have gotten lazy and taken her into a Jiffy Lube or something, but he really needed to work out his nerves right now. Sam had been annoying the piss out of him for days about that damned benefit show, but his heart just wasn’t in it anymore.

“You’re being a jerk, you know that, right?” Sammy said, crossing his arms over his chest and giving Dean Bitchface #14- _you’re being a spoiled brat and it’s not appreciated_.

“Whatever, bitch,” Dean muttered.

Sammy switched tactics, from being the disapproving, annoying little brother to the whining, annoying little brother. “Come on, Dean,” he pleaded. “Gabe has been putting a lot of hard work into this show. _I_ put a lot of hard work into the show, writing those pieces for you guys.” Sammy pulled out the puppy-dog eyes, and Dean almost crumbled. He sighed.

“I just can’t work with the guy, Sammy. Would it make you feel better if I got Kevin to play the pieces with me?”

“No, it wouldn’t make me feel better,” Sammy mumbled. “Just swallow your fucking pride and man-up.”

“What was that?” Dean said, turning to face his brother. “You think this is about fucking _pride_? I actually talked to Cas about Mom, how important she was to me, how being the best wasn’t just for my ego, but for her memory, and he turned around and shit on that!”

“No he didn’t!” Sam yelled back. “He has his own reasons for wanting to be the best, did you ever think about that?”

Dean blinked. Actually, he didn’t. They’d spent a lot of time talking about books and music and his mom and Sammy, but he honestly couldn’t remember Cas talking much about himself or his family. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath.

“Yeah,” Sammy said, looking smug. “Quit being a little shit and go talk to him.” With that, Sammy left Dean alone with his thoughts in the garage.

* * * * *

Castiel heard his cell phone ping again and sighed. He would never get the piece right if everyone insisted on disrupting him. Setting aside his cello, he picked up his phone and looked at the screen. 12 new messages.

_Dean: Hey, you still wanna do the benefit show?_

_Dean: Sammy’s riding my ass about it._

_Dean: Bet Gabe’s riding yours, too._

_Dean: And not in a fun way ;)_

_Dean: Man, that sounded horrible._

_Dean: Or, you know, you could just ignore me._

_Dean: Seriously? You’re gonna ignore me? Real mature._

_Dean: You know what? Nevermind. You already proved you’re an asshole, don’t know why I thought you’d change._

_Gabriel: Call me_

_Gabriel: Call me NOW_

_Gabriel: CASSIE YOU NEED TO CALL ME_

_Dean: Fuck you_

Castiel sighed and called his cousin. After four rings, it went to voicemail. He frowned at his phone and set it down, only for it to ping at him again. He picked it up and read the new message.

_Gabriel: kansas city memorial in with er nurse now sammy in surgery call dean_

Castiel dialed Dean’s number without hesitation

* * * * *

Dean paused Guardians of the Galaxy and looked at the caller ID, laughing. _Guess that last_ fuck you _did it, you self-righteous bastard._ He hit the End button to send it to voicemail. Before he could set it down, it started ringing again. He hit end again. This went on for about ten minutes before it finally stopped.

“Stubborn bastard,” Dean mumbled, setting his phone down. Just as he got comfortable and unpaused the movie, there was a loud banging on the front door.

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ!” he said, getting up and stomping to go answer it. When he saw Cas standing at the door, he tried to slam it, but Cas stopped him.

“Dean, stop,” he said, looking a little breathless. “It’s Sam.”

Dean froze. “What about Sam?”

* * * * *

Gabriel was sitting in the ER waiting room at Kansas City Memorial hospital. He’d be pacing if his legs didn’t hurt so bad. His entire body was sore, and his head was killing him. He had about five stitches on the side where his head went through the driver-side window.

He looked up when he heard the automatic doors open and threw a hand up when he saw Cassie and Dean come in looking around. They rushed over to him, both firing off questions at once. “Slow down, guys,” he said, hands up in surrender.

“What happened,” Dean demanded, worry evident in his voice.

“Truck ran a stop sign, hit the passenger side. Sammy took the worst of it. He’s been in surgery for a couple hours now.” He took a shaky breath as he ran his hands through his hair, then let out a hysterical laugh. “If I had a beast like the Impala instead of my shitty little car, he’d probably be okay.”

“Dude, not your fault,” Dean told him. “I’m gonna go see if they have any info yet,” he said, hooking a thumb towards the receptionist desk before heading over.

Cas sat next to Gabriel in silence, which Gabriel appreciated. He and Sam hadn’t been together long, but he knew the Moose was it for him. If he didn’t make it…

Dean came back over, looking even more frustrated if it was possible. “They said he’s almost out of surgery, the doc would come down and talk to us after.”

Cas looked up at Dean and very drily said, “on the bright side, they weren’t hit by a drunk driver.”

Gabriel and Dean stared at him in shock before they were both laughing so hard it hurt. “Dammit, Cassie! You and your morbid sense of humor!” He wrapped an arm around his cousin’s shoulder and kept laughing so that he wouldn’t cry.


	17. Chapter 17

A week after the accident, Sammy was still in a coma. Gabe said they’d been on their way back from running an errand when the Ford F-250 dually ran the stop sign at the intersection at 55 miles per hour, T-boning Gabe’s Honda Accord on the passenger side. While the momentum threw Gabe’s head through the driver's side window, Sammy had taken the full force of the hit, crushing the right side of his body and leaving a small crater in the side of his head. Gabe had morbidly referred to Sammy’s head as looking like a piece of modern art, concave with shards of glass jutting out and blood dripping down the side, like crystalline flowers dotted with deathly raindrops. The thought made Dean want to vomit.

He and Cas had both invited Gabe to stay at their respective places. While Cas argued that he was Gabe’s family, Dean argued that he might want to crash in Sammy’s room. That sealed the deal for Dean, who had his own selfish reasons for inviting Gabe to stay. He didn’t want to be alone any more than Gabe did. He did extend an olive branch, though, and told Cas he was welcome to crash on the couch as long as Gabe was staying.

They had settled into a routine of sorts over the next few weeks; someone always staying with Sammy at the hospital while the other two worked or slept. Members of the Kansas City Orchestra made sure all three of them were well fed by bringing by food for them every night, most recently Charlie swinging by with pizza. Dean and Cas even put their little spat on hold to make sure the other practiced their pieces for work, made sure each other ate and slept, and even carpooled to work in the mornings. They were still angry with each other, but both men were more worried about Sammy than their stupid argument.

But listening to Cas trip over _Dance of the Hours_ , that argument seemed a lot less stupid to Dean. He could play that part practically in his sleep, and Cas just kept tangling his fingers over the high A and D strings. Dean was starting to get a migraine listening to Cas play that one phrase over and over and _still_ not getting it.

“Aaaarg! Just stop!” he growled in frustration, causing Cas to stop and look up. Dean pushed himself out of the chair he was sitting in and stomped over to Cas, dragging the chair behind him. He snatched the cello and bow from his hands and sat directly across from him. “Watch,” he said, then started to play. He took the piece back a few measures to the beginning of the phrase, closing his eyes as he did so. He played through that phrase and the next before stopping, opening his eyes to see Cas staring at him with his mouth open.

“You didn’t even look at the music,” Cas said, slightly astonished. “What- How- You already know this piece?”

Dean snorted. “Course I do, been playing it for years.” He stretched his fingers and wiggled them a bit before placing them back on the neck of the instrument. “Now watch.” He played the two phrases again at half tempo, eyes open this time. However, instead of watching the strings or looking at the music, he watched Cas’ face as the man watched his fingers. When Dean finished again, he handed the cello back to Cas, got up and headed into the kitchen.

Dean grabbed a beer from the fridge, leaning against it as he popped the top and chugged. He listened as Cas played the piece again, slower, hitting the correct notes this time. He played it again and again, a little faster each time, until he got to the correct tempo. Dean tossed his empty bottle in the trash as he just leaned back, closed his eyes, and listened until Cas played it over and over until it was flawless. And when it was, Dean smiled, picturing his mom in the other room playing.

He was so lost in his memories that he hadn’t notice Cas stop playing, or that he’d entered the kitchen. “Dean?” he heard, and opened his eyes to see Cas watching him, head tilted to one side and a look of confusion on his face.

“Why do you gotta be First Chair, Cas?” Dean asked.

Cas’ gaze dropped to the floor, then he looked at the ceiling before looking at Dean again. On a sigh, he said, “I had to be perfect, the best, my mother expected no less of me. If I wasn’t, she either scolded me or simply ignored me. I believe she thinks of me as a reflection of herself; if I am not perfect, then neither is she.”

“You were First Chair in Chicago. Why’d you come to Kansas City?”

“Because my mother is here, all of her friends are here, her life is here. She wants her perfect son to be here for her to show off.” Cas moved across the kitchen to lean against the fridge next to Dean. “Where your mother showed you unconditional love, I have to continually earn it from my own. Doubly so since I came out as gay. It’s a shortcoming she despises. So I have refrained from dating since I moved back and strove to be the best so she would have a son to be proud of.

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Cas,” Dean said with a sneer. “Why does what she think matter to you so damned much?”

“Because she’s here and I want her to love me. Your mother loved you but isn’t here anymore, so why do you keep trying to please her?”

* * * * *

Castiel didn’t know what prompted him to ask the question, and the shock on Dean’s face made him regret asking. Before he could apologize, Dean replied quietly, “Because I don’t wanna forget her.” Castiel took Dean’s hand in his and squeezed it. The two men stood there in companionable silence for quite a while, thinking on their own motives and of each other’s.

For his part, Castiel knew Dean was correct. He shouldn’t have to earn his mother’s love like that, but growing up an only child with only his mother, he wanted the one person in his life to love him and be proud of him. He envied Dean the love he was so readily given by his own mother, his family and friends, but his heart broke a little that the man focused solely on his mother’s memory rather than those around him so willing to give him that love.

Maybe he could be one of those people.

Castiel stepped in front of Dean, pressing him against the fridge with his own. Dean startled at the sudden movement but Castiel just squeezed his hand tighter. His other hand reached up to cup Dean’s face. The kiss wasn’t hard or fast, and it held compassion rather than passion. He showed Dean with his actions rather than his words that he wasn’t alone, that he was cared for. Dean drank it in like a man dying of thirst. They moved together like two people who needed comfort from each other, until they needed more.

Dean groaned and slid his tongue into Castiel’s mouth. He brought the hand holding Castiel’s behind his back, pinning his arm behind him and pulling him closer. A tilt of the head deepened the kiss as they licked and nipped at each other, their hips starting a slow rhythm. Their breathing became staccato as they rubbed off against each other there in Dean’s kitchen, until Castiel broke the kiss on a gasp of his release. Dean moved faster and faster until he followed, burying his head in Castiel’s neck.

As they came down from their emotional highs, Dean laughed. “One of these days, we’ll actually make it to the bedroom.”

Castiel looked at him, Dean’s smile lighting up his eyes and he couldn’t help smiling back. “One of these days, we may actually make it out of our clothes.”

Dean laughed wholeheartedly and pulled Castiel in for a hug. “Sounds like a plan. Shower?”

Castiel nodded into his shoulder before allowing Dean to lead him upstairs.

* * * * *

Dean woke the next morning to the sounds of _Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy_ playing from his nightstand. He tried to reach for his phone, but was unable to due to Castiel’s naked body sprawled across him, effectively pinning him down.

“Cas,” he whispered, nudging the man. Cas just groaned and rolled over, wiggling his ass against Dean as he snuggled back down into the memory foam mattress. It was just enough leeway for Dean to reach his phone.

“Sup Gabe?” he answered.

“Sam’s up!” he heard Gabe say excitedly. “Doc’s checking him out now, running some tests, but he’s up!”

Dean dumped Cas onto the floor when he sat up too quickly. “Oh shit!” he cried, putting the phone against his chest. “You okay, Cas?” he asked, which Cas responded to with a grunt and a hairy eyeball. Dean stifled a laugh at that.

“What was that?” Gabe asked. “You and Cassie cuddled up or something?”

“Or something,” Dean muttered. “Give us about an hour, we’ll be down there.”

“Take your time, give my cuz a proper wake-up call. They’re gonna be running tests on Sammy for at least a couple hours. See ya!” Gabe hung up before Dean could reply.

“Is Sam okay?” Cas asked groggily.

“Yeah, Sleeping Beauty is finally awake,” Dean said with a grin. “Docs are running tests right now, Gabe says we have a couple hours.”

“Whatever shall we do with the time?” Cas asked with a lecherous grin. He crawled back up on the bed and onto Dean’s lap, draping his arms over his shoulders.

“We could celebrate,” Dean replied. He wiggled in place until his feet pulled the sheet out from between him and Cas, his morning wood grinding into Cas’ ass.

Cas moaned at the feeling, leaning in to kiss Dean despite their morning breath. He rocked his ass against Dean’s cock as one arm reached for the box of condoms on the nightstand, plucking one out. His mouth broke from Dean’s long enough to bite one corner of the foil packet and ripping it open, then dove back in for more as he reached around and rolled it down the man’s thick shaft. Still loose from the hours before, Cas slowly worked himself down Dean’s erection, both men moaning in pleasure. Once fully seated. Dean took Cas’ hands in his to provide him leverage as Castiel worked himself up and down.

Dean watched, mesmerized, as Cas rode him. His head was thrown back, eyes closed, pink lips parted, hair still mussed from sex and sleep. His chest heaved as he sucked in the oxygen he needed to go faster, harder. Dean wanted to thrust back, but he was too in love with the man taking what he wanted from him to do anything but stare at the gorgeous sight.

Cas released one of Dean’s hands to grip himself, tugging on his own dick in rhythm to his movements. Dean released Cas’ other hand and gripped his hips, bending his knees and planting his feet into the mattress to finally give as good as he was getting. He met Cas thrust for thrust, bouncing him on his cock as Cas moaned louder, getting closer to his climax.

“Come on, Cas,” Dean panted, “love seeing you like this, love you, come on, baby, let it go.”

At Dean’s words, Cas howled as he bore down on Dean, striping his chest in thick white stripes of cum. The tight squeeze of Cas around him milked Dean’s own orgasm from him, his hips stuttering into Cas as he came, too.

The two rolled to their sides, catching their breath as Dean removed the condom, tied it off, and tossed it in the general direction of the wastebasket. Dean popped his head up over Cas’ should to see that the condom did indeed make it in, and gave a fist pump saying, “he shoots, he scores!”

Cas laughed at Dean’s silliness, then asked, “you love me?”

Dean blushed as he remembered what he said in the heat of the moment, but he couldn’t find a reason to regret it. “Yeah, Cas, I think I do.”

Cas gave Dean that big, gummy grin that he loved so much, and told him, “I think I love you, too.”

* * * * *

A few hours later they were showered, dressed, caffeinated, fed, and headed into the hospital. Castiel watched fondly as Dean practically bounced over to the nurse’s station to get an update.

“Hey, cuz,” he heard behind him, turning to see Gabriel coming towards him. Castiel smiled and gave Gabriel a rather tight hug.

“Whoa, you okay Cassie?” Gabriel asked, hugging Castiel back just as tightly.

“I’m fine,” he replied, “just very relieved that Sam is awake and will be alright.”

Gabriel sighed and sank deeper into the hug. “You and me both.” Castiel decided to ignore the moisture he felt on his neck.

“Gabe!” Dean called out. Gabriel backed up and quickly wiped his sleeves across his face before grinning at Dean.

“Dean-o! Sammy’s up, and the docs say he’s gonna be a hundred percent in no time. His memory might be wonky for a while, but it’ll all come back to him.” Gabriel gave Dean a hug as well, though much briefer. “Kiddo doesn’t remember the fight you guys had, though, so please tell me you kissed and made up and are still doing the show.”

Dean took Castiel’s hand and smiled at him, and Castiel felt warmth spread throughout his body. “Yeah Gabe, we’re good.”

“We’re definitely good,” Castiel added.


	18. Chapter 18

Monday morning both Castiel and Dean were in great spirits during practice. All of their colleagues were overjoyed to hear about Sam’s recovery and prognosis, each of them asking Dean to pass on their best wishes to his brother. Charlie begged for the opportunity to throw him a small welcome home party when he was released from the hospital, just the brothers, their boyfriends, herself, and Kevin.

Castiel still smiled when he thought about the conversation that weekend that led to Dean asking him shyly to be his boyfriend. It was adorable to see the grown man acting like he was still a young teen in school, asking out his crush. The conductor tapping the podium brought him out of his reverie, getting everyone’s attention to begin rehearsal.

He and Dean were back to working as a well-oiled machine, working well together rather than in opposition. The entire rehearsal seemed to flow much more naturally, Castiel thought, with more grace than when he and Dean were at odds. Their rehearsal time seemed to fly by.

Just before the end of rehearsal, the door to the hall opened and Rufus Turner, the chairman of the Board of Directors, entered. He stood and watched as they finished before approaching the conductor with several file folders. The rest of the orchestra whispered nervously amongst themselves, speculating on the hushed conversation.

Mr. Turner approached the podium, picked up the conductor’s baton, and tapped it a few times to get everyone’s attention. A hush fell over the hall. “It has come to my attention,” he said very loudly, his harsh Midwestern accent echoing throughout the room, “that we have two cellists who both think they’re hot shit.” Snickers and giggles filled the room at his comment. He held up two file folders, one in each hand. “Winchester, Novak-chair challenge. Get your butts up here.”

Castiel looked at Dean, who just looked at him in shock and confusion. They got up and walked to the front of the room, retrieving the folders from Mr. Turner and returning to their seats.

* * * * *

Dean had known Rufus Turner his entire life. He was a friend of Bobby Singer’s, who was pretty much his surrogate dad. He knew Rufus loved music but was all sorts of tone deaf, which is why when he had the opportunity to join the Board of Directors years ago he jumped on it, hoping he could help the KCO become just as famous as orchestras in the larger, more popular cities. Dean just didn’t have a clue what the old man was up to this time.

After retrieving his folder from Rufus and returning to his seat, he opened it to find several sheets of music in familiar scrawl. As he reviewed the piece, he knew it was his brother’s work, both from the handwriting and the style. It had started out with the same opening as Beethoven’s 5th, a piece he heard Cas listening to several times (it was his favorite), but then it transitioned into something heavier. As he continued reading the musical notation, a smile lit up his face. It was Led Zeppelin. Sammy had seamlessly combined both his and Cas’ favorite music.

Dean leaned over to Cas, bumping him with his shoulder to get his attention. Cas looked up at him, looking very confused. “Do you know what this is about?” Cas asked him.

“Not a clue,” Dean replied, “but I’m willing to bet Sammy had something to do with it.” He pointed out the transitions throughout the music, walked him through the Zep parts since he was pretty sure Cas hadn’t heard the song before. Cas surprised him when he started humming along, saying of course he was already familiar with one of Dean’s favorite bands. He tried hard not to blush at that as they put the music on their stands and picked their cellos back up.

Rufus handed the baton back to the director. “Ready, boys?” he asked. Both men nodded and sat in the ready position, the conductor raising his baton to start.

Dean and Cas held eye contact as they started the piece, titled [_Whole Lotta Love_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x8yymm3DtVA), not even paying attention to the conductor. They played through the opening measures of Beethoven’s 5th before turning back to the sheets in front of them, transitioning into Led Zeppelin’s _Whole Lotta Love_. The conductor just crossed his arms and stood there, not even bothering to lead them as they took over the piece.

Dean pushed the bass line, hitting the strings hard with his bow as Cas pulled his own bow gracefully across the strings for the verses. They both laid heavy on the strings through the chorus before Dean put his bow in his mouth, drumming on the body of his cello through the bridge. When Cas looked back over at him, Dean waggled his eyebrows at him. Cas in turn gave him a lecherous grin as he made his instrument screech and moan as though it was having an orgasm.

At the turning point of the song, Cas and Dean squared off against each other, Beethoven versus Zeppelin, old versus new, until they hit the break, both panting heavily. After a four count rest, they came back in together, eyes bouncing between their sheet music and each other. They both grinned wildly, kicking back their chairs to stand as they played through to the end, their entire bodies moving in time with the music and each other. 

They were both breathing heavy when they finished, laughing together as the hall erupted in applause. They had gravitated towards each other as they played, and Dean was very inclined to kiss Cas at that moment. Rufus’ voice could be heard over the noise until the rest of the hall finally settled down. Cas took his seat, Dean following his lead.

“Sam was right, you’re both damned good,” he said loudly. “The KCO is lucky to have both of you, despite your little pissing matches every other month.” Dean grinned sheepishly at that, while Cas just frowned. “If you boys wanna keep that up, do it on your own time. As far as the board is concerned, you’re _both_ First Chair. You two can fight over the solos, or however you wanna figure it out. Tran, you’re finally second chair, congratulations.” With that, Rufus turned and left the hall.

* * * * *

_What just happened?_ was all Castiel could think. It was unheard of for an orchestra to have _two_ First Chairs in a section, regardless of the instrument. He looked at Dean, who appeared as shocked as he was.

“What the hell just happened?” he asked incredulously. Castiel just laughed and replied, “My sentiments exactly.”

“Well, you two,” the conductor said, getting their attention, “I can’t say I’ll miss your chair challenges. Maybe now we can actually get through a season without the constant posturing. I’ll see all of you tomorrow,” he told the rest of the orchestra, and left as well.

“Oh my God, you guys!” Charlie exclaimed, rushing the two cellists and throwing an arm around each of their necks. “This is so amazing! I’m so happy for you! Now we have more to celebrate than just Sam getting better!”

Charlie’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Castiel couldn’t help but return her smile. “I agree, but let’s wait until Sam is there to celebrate with us. I have a feeling this is his doing, after all.”

Dean let out a laugh at that. “No doubt, dude. Probably got sick of our bitching. C’mon,” he said, picking up his cello and heading towards the door. “Let’s go tell him the good news.”

Castiel agreed, following Dean. Gabriel would most likely be with Sam, so they could tell both men at once. Castiel sent a quick prayer up to whatever gods may be listening, thankful for all the good things happening in his life now.

* * * * *

Dean frowned as Sammy looked over the sheet music in his hand. He shifted uncomfortably at the foot of the hospital bed, worried. “Whoa,” Sammy said, a little awed, “nope, I don’t remember writing this, but it’s pretty awesome.” He grinned widely as he handed the music back to his brother.

“I don’t like you missing chunks of time like this, man,” Dean said seriously.

“Pffffft,” Gabe said with a flip of his hand. “He’s only missing bits and pieces of the weeks you and Cassie fought. Really, I envy him.”

“Quit being an ass, Gabriel. That isn’t funny.” Cas crossed his arms over his chest and gave his cousin a bitchface to rival one of Sammy’s.

Gabe lifted a finger and opened his mouth to argue with Cas, but Sam interrupted him. “What I want to know is what kind of deal I made with Rufus to make them both First Chair.”

Gabe grinned and explained. “You told me he’d been trying to get you to compose exclusively for the KCO. Every year he ups his offer, and every year you decline. When Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber got bent out of shape over who got to be First Chair, you decided to use the old man’s offer as leverage.” He took Sam’s hand in his and kissed it. “After all, you said that you wanted the stability and higher income if we were gonna get married.”

Dean and Cas both whipped their heads towards the two so fast they almost gave themselves whiplash. “Married?” Dean croaked.

Sam just squinted a little, trying to remember before saying, “I don’t remember that, but it makes sense.” He pulled their joined hands up and kissed Gabe’s hand back. “Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly.

Gabe just laughed. “Kidding about the married thing, just wanted to see your reaction.” Dean and Cas heaved a sigh of relief. As much as Dean wanted to see Sammy happy, it was all too much too soon, too quickly.

“It’s not a bad idea though,” Sammy said, smiling up at Gabe. “How about we call it a long engagement and see where it goes?

Gabe beamed and leaned down to capture Sammy’s lips in his, prompting Dean to drag Cas out of the room to leave the two lovebirds alone. He never let go of Cas’ hand though, thanking his lucky stars for all their good fortune, and praying he didn’t just jinx himself.


	19. Chapter 19

_Five Months Later…_

Castiel grinned wildly as he and Dean completed their set for the MADD benefit at The Speakeasy. While the lineup included many talented musicians and DJs, Gabriel had touted them as top billing, both being First Chair for the Kansas City Orchestra.

So far, the arrangement worked out well. He handed the solo piece for _Dance of the Hours_ over to Dean, knowing he could do it more justice than Castiel himself ever could. Dean hugged him tight, unshed tears in his eyes. Their working relationship became even more seamless.

As for their romantic relationship, he was pleased with how well he and Dean fit together despite the differences in their upbringings and their perspectives on life. While they constantly disagreed on many things, they had yet to really argue to the point of feeling their relationship wouldn’t work. Tonight would be their biggest challenge, though, with Castiel’s mother in the audience.

At the end of the show, Castiel approached his mother, Dean right behind him.

“Mother,” was all he said in greeting.

“Castiel,” she replied curtly, arms crossed over her chest.

“I’d like you to meet Dean Winchester,” he said, and Dean leaned around him to offer his hand to Castiel’s mother.

“Pleasure, ma’am,” Dean said cheerfully. She did not move to return his greeting, so he let his hand drop.

“So this is the redneck you share First Chair with?” she asked disdainfully. “I heard the only reason he was able to secure the position in the first place was because he was friends with the chairman of the Board of Directors.”

“This _redneck_ is my _boyfriend_ ,” Castiel spat at her, “and he _earned_ the position of First Chair. We both did.” Castiel took Dean’s hand and for the first time in his life stood up to his mother for what _he_ wanted, not what _she_ wanted.

His mother rushed around the table and tried to pry their hands apart. “Stop that, Castiel!” she ground out just loud enough so that no one else would hear. “You’re going to embarrass me as well as yourself!”

Castiel yanked his and Dean’s hands away from his mother, taking a step away from her. “You’re the one who is embarrassing herself, mother. Everyone here knows that Dean and I are together, and no one thinks anything of it. You’re the one who’s making a scene.”

She composed herself, smoothing her skirt down. “ _You’re_ the embarrassment. I didn’t raise you to be a faggot. You need to stop this at once before you destroy your career!”

“Lady,” Dean said in the kindest, most non-threatening voice he’d ever used, “Cas is so damned talented that he could play for the Pope naked and everyone would think it was the most awesome thing in the world. He’s loved by everyone he works with, and most of all by me. He doesn’t need you or your nasty attitude. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to take my kind, talented, insanely gorgeous boyfriend home so I can show him how much I love him. I’d say it was nice meeting you, but my mom really loved me and raised me right, teaching me not to lie. Have a good evening.”

With that, he pulled Castiel through the crown, out the front door, and behind the building where the Impala was parked. Castiel’s head spun and his heart pounded as he processed the way Dean had told his mother off. It was kind of hot.

When they arrived at the Impala, Castiel pushed Dean against the driver side door and slammed his lips against Dean’s. Dean floundered a little before getting with the program. When they finally came up for air, Dean asked breathlessly, “What was that for?”

“For defending my honor against my mother,” Castiel replied, and Dean laughed. Castiel kissed him again, asking, “Now will you take me home and show me how much you love me?”

“Absolutely,” Dean said, grinning against Castiel’s mouth.


	20. Chapter 20

_Five Years Later…_

Holding Cas’ hand, Dean led him down Via degli Alpini to the fountain at Piazza Bra in Verona, Italy. They each had a duffel slung over one shoulder and a gig bag over the other with cheaper cellos they’d received specifically for this trip. It had been Cas’ dream to backpack through Europe, but he’d never found the opportunity because he was working too damned hard to have a ‘normal life’. Dean huffed at that thought.

So Dean did what any man in love would have done-with nothing but a few changes of clothes and their cellos, he dragged Cas to Italy. He told Cas they could busque their way through the continent, living on love and music. Cas was completely enamored with the idea, and they took off after the concert season ended, taking a month’s leave from the KCO. Sammy and Gabe, married two years prior, approved of the idea and even bought them the cheap black cellos they now carried.

Of course, they eloped in Vegas when they had a four hour layover at McCarran International Airport. Dean planned that, too, and Cas laughed his ass off at Dean’s foresight.

They found the giant stone fountain with the statue of the angel Cassiel that Dean looked up online. He thought it the most appropriate place to start their honeymoon. They sat on the edge of the fountain, set down their duffels, and unpacked their cellos. They attached the endpins to their instruments and tuned up before Cas took off the ridiculous fedora he purchased at the airport when they arrived and placed it on the ground in front of them. Then they played.

Cas started out with just a few notes, then a few more. Then he took off into the opening of [_Welcome to the Jungle_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3V7EugoweM4), one of Dean’s favorite songs. Dean grinned and joined in. One by one, people gravitated towards them, watching in awe as they rocked out on the classical instruments. Money started filling that ridiculous hat.

After about a dozen songs, they packed it up as the sun was setting over the plaza. Dean counted the money as Cas stood with his phrasebook out, shaking hands and thanking everyone. When all was said and done, they had almost 500 euros.

“Well, husband of mine,” Cas asked him, “how did we do?”

“Not too shabby,” Dean replied with a smirk. “Enough to get a good hotel room and a decent meal. Or we could save it for the trip and stay in the hostel tonight.”

Cas wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist and tugged him close, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’d like to spend my wedding night in a room to ourselves, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all, Cas,” Dean said with a lecherous grin and another kiss. “Wanna do anything special?”

“Just you,” he said with a grin. “Just you.”

_And they lived happily ever after, with their music and a whole lotta love._


End file.
